


Antboy and the Red Ranger

by dyan_ardais



Category: Antboy
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys having Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, M/B, M/M, Oral Sex, Superheroes, Underage Masturbation, Underage Rape/Non-con, Yaoi, boy/boy, boylove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26523055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyan_ardais/pseuds/dyan_ardais
Summary: 12-year-old Pelle, also known as the superhero Antboy, must face off against a new villain, the Red Ranger, while exploring his attraction to his best friend Wilhelm. Tragedy strikes when the Red Ranger rapes Pelle, and the boys must deal with the fallout.
Kudos: 4





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual content involving young boys. If this offends you then you should stop reading now.
> 
> SPECIAL WARNING: This story contains graphic scenes of sexual violence.
> 
> Author’s Note: This story is loosely based on the Antboy movie series. It is written as a sequel of sorts for the first movie and takes place soon after the events of that movie, ignoring the actual sequels that were made. You may also note changes in personalities, settings, etc. from the movie.

### Prologue

After being bitten by a chemically altered ant, twelve-year-old Pelle Nøhrmann gained the powers of the ant, including super-strength, resistance to injury, and enhanced healing abilities, as well as an enhanced sense of smell and the ability to climb walls.

With the encouragement and help of his friend Wilhelm, Pelle became the superhero Antboy. And with the help of his friends Wilhelm and Ida, he defeated and imprisoned the supervillain the Flea.

Only Wilhelm and Ida—and the Flea—know Pelle’s secret. And his weakness. Pelle’s powers are fueled by sugar. Without enough sugar he not only loses his powers, he becomes very weak.

This story takes place a couple of months after Antboy’s defeat of the Flea.

### Chapter 1

The morning sunlight streaming through the window gilded the naked twelve-year-old boy, bathing him in a golden glow.

Pelle lay on his bed, eyes closed, allowing the sun to caress him. He loved the feel of the morning sun on his skin. Every morning, if the skies were clear, he would throw off the bed covers and just lie there, naked, and let the sun’s warmth envelop him.

Though he was twelve years old, Pelle looked closer to ten. He was only 140 centimeters (4 feet 7 inches) tall and weighed just 35 kilograms (75 pounds). He had straight, sandy brown hair that tended to fall into his blue eyes and a round, cherubic face with a bit of an overbite. But his body was slim and toned, due largely to his enhanced metabolism.

Naked, Pelle looked more like a ten-year-old in other ways, too. His pubes were still completely smooth and hairless, and his little cock was only about 5 centimeters (2 inches) long when soft and 7.5 centimeters (3 inches) long when hard, like it was now.

Almost as if it were responding to the sun’s touch, Pelle’s cock twitched, demanding attention. Like every morning, Pelle was sporting an erection, his hard little cock pointing up towards his belly. Pelle looked down at it and contracted his muscles, making it twitch again.

It had only been a couple of months ago that Pelle first learned what a boy could do with his stiff willy, but he’d been hooked ever since. Wanking quickly became his favorite activity. He did it at least twice a day. Once in the morning after waking up and once before going to sleep at night. And sometimes in the afternoon after school. So it was with a somewhat practiced hand that Pelle grasped his cock and started jacking off.

As usual, Pelle found himself thinking about the other boys in his class. There were so many cute boys in his school! Lately, though, one boy in particular dominated his fantasies more and more: his best friend Wilhelm.

Pelle slid his hand down over his smooth, hairless pubes and reached down to his balls, hanging loose in their sack. He caressed his balls, rolling them between his fingers, pulling on the skin of his scrotum, then moved his hand back up to his waiting cock.

Pelle held his small cock between the fingers and thumb of his right hand, placing his fingers over his cockhead. Slowly, he moved the skin up and down, peeling his foreskin down off of his cockhead and sliding it back up.

“Oh, Wilhelm,” he moaned.

Pelle imagined his friend, naked, straddling his chest, pressing his cock to Pelle’s lips. He moaned again as Wilhelm’s cock pushed past his lips, the hot, smooth cylinder sliding into his mouth.

The imaginary Wilhelm pulled his cock out of Pelle’s mouth and slid down Pelle’s body. Pelle’s hand moved faster as Wilhelm wrapped his lips around Pelle’s cock.

Pelle held his breath and tensed his body as he came. His little cock throbbed several times, the orgasmic contractions pulsing through him.

As his climax ebbed, he relaxed onto the bed, lightly holding his sensitive, softening cock.

After recovering for a few moments, Pelle looked down at his cock and slid back the foreskin. As usual, there was just a little clear fluid on the tip. He was still too physically immature to make more than just a drop of clear semen when he came.

Pelle used his finger to wipe the liquid—weirdly both sticky and slick—off his cockhead. He looked at it closely, rubbing it between his finger and thumb, and then licked it off of his fingers. Pelle liked the taste, though we wished it was Wilhelm’s that he was tasting. He wondered if it tasted the same.

Just then, Pelle heard his mom call from downstairs. “Pelle, time to get up! You don’t want to be late for school!”

With a groan, Pelle rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

### Chapter 2

“Hey, Pelle! Wait up!” Wilhelm called.

“Hi, Wilhelm,” Pelle replied, pausing to let Wilhelm catch up with him. He blushed as he remembered the fantasies he’d had about Wilhelm just a half hour ago.

Though Wilhelm was almost the exact same age as Pelle, he was noticeably more physically mature. He was about 150 centimeters (4 feet 11 inches) tall—10 centimeters (4 inches) taller than Pelle—and weighed about 40 kilograms (90 pounds). He was not quite as slim as Pelle, but still trim. And where Pelle was fair skinned, Wilhelm was olive skinned, with a long face, slicked-down black hair, and glasses over his brown eyes.

As Wilhelm came running up to him, Pelle couldn’t help but glance surreptitiously at the bulge in Wilhelm’s crotch. Lately he found himself looking at the bulge of every boy he saw. He couldn’t help himself!

Pelle felt own his cock start to stir. He forced himself to look straight ahead, willing it to remain soft. Luckily, Wilhelm didn’t seem to notice either the blush in Pelle’s cheeks or the growing bulge in his pants.

As they continued their walk to school together, Pelle wondered for what felt like the thousandth time if he should just tell Wilhelm how he felt about him. The problem was that, despite being best friends, Pelle had no idea how Wilhelm would react. They never talked about such things. In fact, now that Pelle thought of it, they never really talked much about anything other than Pelle’s other big secret—that Pelle was Antboy. It seemed like everything they did together was Antboy related, which made Pelle wonder just how good of friends they really were.

As if on cue: “I had an idea for a new Antboy alert system. You should come over after school so I can show you,” Wilhelm said excitedly, oblivious to Pelle’s embarrassment and worry.

“Shh!” Pelle replied, looking around to see if anyone was nearby. “Not so loud! Someone might hear you.

“Sorry,” Wilhelm said, not very contritely, though he continued in a softer voice. “But you really should come over and check it out.”

“OK,” Pelle said, sounding more exasperated than he meant to. Sometimes Wilhelm let his excitement get the better of him. Pelle was worried that someday Wilhelm would say the wrong thing at the wrong time and give away that Pelle was Antboy.

Though Pelle was always rather amazed that nobody except Wilhelm and Ida had figured it out. Yes, he wore a disguise when he was Antboy, but that didn’t change his voice or height or size. Wilhelm said it had something to do with people seeing what they want to see, that Antboy was somehow bigger than life in their eyes. But privately Pelle thought it probably had more to do with people not being able to believe that the smallest, quietest boy in sixth grade could be a superhero.

Still, even Pelle’s parents hadn’t figured it out, which Pelle felt must qualify them for the Oblivious Parent Hall of Fame.

“Look, there’s Ida,” Wilhelm said as they entered the school, trying to make up for his gaff earlier.

“Yeah,” Pelle replied unenthusiastically, with a pang of guilt. He’d known exactly where Ida was before they entered the building. His enhanced sense of smell picked her scent out of the crowd automatically.

“I’ve got to get to class,” Pelle said to Wilhelm, looking away from Ida, hoping she wouldn’t notice him.

***

Wilhelm was smart. He was very smart. Not only was he the smartest sixth grader in his school, he was probably the smartest sixth grader in the country. Possibly even the world.

And Wilhelm knew he was smart. Surprisingly, it didn’t make him conceited or egotistical. He didn’t have any false humility about it either, though. In fact, it rarely even crossed his mind. It was just who he was.

But, like many intelligent people, Wilhelm was a bit socially awkward. He didn’t fit in to any of the social groups at school, not even the geeks, though he was obsessed with comic books and superheroes. He could never seem to get the hang of friendly conversation with children his own age. And the social conventions of the school playground frustrated him.

He was not always very good at picking up non-verbal cues or deducing the emotions of other people. But even he could tell that there was something up with Pelle and Ida. He seemed to be avoiding her. And lately his reaction every time Ida was mentioned seemed evasive.

Was Pelle no longer in love with Ida? Wilhelm had a momentary flash of hope and joy and the thought, which he immediately felt guilty about. Pelle and Ida were his friends—his only friends, really—and he should be happy that they made each other happy. But Wilhelm was jealous. Jealous of Ida.

Wilhelm was in love with Pelle. He didn’t want to be—he knew it was stupid; Pelle liked girls—but he couldn’t help it. Being smart enough to know it was hopeless didn’t mean he could change how he felt.

But Wilhelm had been in love with Pelle practically from the first day they met, when Wilhelm found out that Pelle had superpowers.

He was introspective enough to worry that maybe he only loved Pelle **because** he had superpowers, but he’d decided it was more than that. Pelle was also the cutest boy Wilhelm had ever seen, with his beautiful blue eyes, cute little smile, and sexy little-boy body.

Wilhelm chided himself over his flash of hope at Pelle’s attitude about Ida. Even if Pelle no longer loved Ida, that didn’t mean that Pelle would love him. Pelle was straight.

He sighed and headed off to class, too.

### Chapter 3

“So here it is,” Wilhelm said as they entered his bedroom after school. “The new Antboy alert system!”

“Where’s what?” asked Pelle. Wilhelm didn’t seem to be pointing at anything.

“It’s a new computer program I wrote,” Wilhelm replied as he sat down in front of th computer. “It scans the police network for emergency reports. When it detects an emergency, it will send a signal to your phone.”

“Cool!” Pelle exclaimed.

Pelle had no idea how Wilhelm managed to do all of the amazing things he did. He figured part of it was money—Wilhelm’s parents were well off and gave him pretty much anything he wanted—but he knew that most of it was pure genius. Wilhelm was by far the smartest person Pelle knew. It was part of why Pelle loved him.

Just then, Pelle’s phone went off. “Robbery in progress at Bankman’s Jewelry Store,” his phone announced.

“See, it works!” said Wilhelm.

“Yeah,” said Pelle, much less enthusiastically. He had been hoping to spend the afternoon with Wilhelm. Sometimes being Antboy was a real bother.

“It’s a good thing you keep an extra Antboy disguise here,” Wilhelm said, pulling it out.

“Maybe we should let the police handle it. It’s just a simple robbery,” Pelle said.

“You don’t know that!” Wilhelm replied. “It could be a new supervillain!”

“You don’t have to sound so excited about it.”

“Sorry” Wilhelm replied, not sounding sorry at all. “Besides, someone could get hurt, even in a simple robbery. You could keep that from happening.”

Pelle sighed, giving in. He knew Wilhelm was right.

Pelle had to strip down to his underwear to put on the Antboy costume. It was something he had done many times in front of Wilhelm in the past, but now he felt self-conscious. Luckily, Wilhelm didn’t seem to notice anything unusual.

Wilhelm didn’t notice anything unusual about Pelle’s behavior, but he did notice Pelle. As Pelle stripped down to his underwear, Wilhelm watched closely while trying not to **look** like he was watching.

Pelle was so beautiful! Wilhelm felt his breath catch and his cock start to thicken at the sight of Pelle’s almost naked body.

And Pelle looked stunning in his Antboy costume. When Wilhelm made it, he purposefully made it form-fitting, to show off Pelle’s body. He gave the excuse that all the superhero costumes looked like that—in fact, most were even more tight and form-fitting. But the real reason was that he wanted Pelle to look sexy in his costume. And look sexy he did! At least to anyone that appreciated the beauty of boy’s bodies.

“Come on,” Wilhelm said, shaking off his reverie. “You can borrow my bike.”

***

In general, Pelle loved being Antboy—the superhuman strength, the resistance to injury, the fast healing. He could even climb walls and bite through metal.

One thing he lacked, though, was a quick way to get around. Superman could fly. Batman had the Batmobile.

Pelle had a bicycle.

Maybe when they were older Wilhelm could build him an Antmobile, but right now he was a just a twelve-year-old boy riding a bike. And though he could pedal really fast, it was still annoying.

Pelle was worried that it would all be over by the time he got there. But he was wrong. The thief, if that was the right thing to call him, was still there.

 _Whoa!_ Pelle thought. _This guy is big!_

He was well over six feet tall and built like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, but bigger. Oddly, he was dressed in an impeccably tailored red suit, with a red Lone Ranger mask and a red fedora.

As Pelle hung back a moment and watched, the guy picked up a police car with his bare hands and threw it a dozen meters.

Pelle sighed. Apparently, the guy had super strength. It looked like Wilhelm was right, there was a new supervillain in town.

Pelle took a bite of the chocolate he always kept in his belt to fuel his powers and started walking up to the man. To anyone who didn’t know about Antboy, the scene would look ridiculous. A short, slight boy in a skin-tight, black costume with a mask and cape was walking up to a man more than twice his size that could throw cars around.

But Pelle was not worried. He had faced foes with super strength before.

“Your life of crime ends here!” Pelle said as he walked up to the huge man, though he winced inside as he said it. It was too corny. He needed a better catchphrase.

The man hesitated, looking down at Pelle with a bemused expression on his face.

“What the fuck are you supposed to be?” he asked, amused.

Pelle sighed again. Apparently the guy had never heard of him. You’d think a potential supervillain would do a little research about a place before going there.

“I’m Antboy!” Pelle replied, striking a superhero pose with his fists on his hips.

“Antboy?” The man laughed uproariously.

Pelle started to get angry. He hated not being taken seriously.

“Yes! Now I suggest you surrender quietly.”

The man laughed again. “Go home little boy, before you get hurt,” he said as he turned his back on Pelle.

Pelle circled around the man and planted himself before him, really angry now. “Give up now before **you** get hurt!”

The man looked a little taken aback that this little boy seemed to be serious about confronting him, but then he gave a shrug. “All right, kid, it’s your funeral.”

### Chapter 4

The cut on Pelle’s leg bled profusely.

The fight had been going well. True, Pelle had not been able to get the upper hand against the red-masked villain, whose strength seem to match his, but he had been holding his own.

Then the man did something unexpected and threw a 200 kilogram (440 pound) jagged metal piece of a car at Pelle.

Pelle managed to dodge it enough to keep from getting impaled, but it caught him in the leg, cutting deep.

Though Pelle’s powers made him resistant to injury, he was not completely impervious. With that much force behind it, the sharp metal edge sliced his inner left thigh. The way it bled, Pelle figured it must have cut the major artery there—he could not remember the name but he knew it was important.

As is was, though, he felt he should consider himself lucky. A couple of centimeters over and the sharp, jagged edge might have cut off his balls.

Pelle realized that he needed to stop the bleeding. He ripped off the rest of the pant leg from the cut and tied it around his leg, tightening it into a tourniquet.

But by the time he was done and looked around again, the red-masked man was gone. Again, he felt that maybe he should consider himself lucky that the man had run off instead of sticking around to finish Pelle off while he was injured

With a sigh, Pelle struggled to his feet and started the long trek back to Wilhelm’s house, hobbling along, using the bicycle for support.

***

“Pelle! What happened?” Wilhelm exclaimed as Pelle limped into his bedroom.

“I cut my leg pretty badly,” Pelle replied, stating the obvious.

“Come here, let’s take a look,” Wilhelm said, leading him into the bathroom that adjoined his bedroom. “It looks like you might have cut your femoral artery.”

_Femoral artery, that was what it was called. Of course Wilhelm would know._

Pelle’s leg felt much better. He was pretty sure the bleeding had already stopped. The long walk to Wilhelm’s house had been enough time for his enhanced recuperative abilities to heal him.

But Wilhelm was in full, officious “Wilhelm mode,” as Pelle thought of it, taking charge and ordering Pelle around. Pelle decided it was easier to just go along with it than to try to argue.

Wilhelm had Pelle sit on the closed toilet while he got a pair of sissors and cut off the makeshift tourniquet. It looked to Wilhelm like the bleeding had stopped, but he needed a better look.

“You’ll need to take off your costume so I can see it better,” Wilhelm said.

So Pelle undid the top of his uniform, pulled his arms out of the sleeves, and pushed it down to his waist. But then, before he knew what Wilhelm was doing, Wilhelm had grabbed the uniform and pushed it down to Pelle’s feet, taking his underwear off with it.

Wilhelm lifted one of Pelle’s feet to pull his clothes the rest of the way off and Pelle had to quickly sit back down on the toilet to keep from falling. Wilhelm quickly pulled Pelle’s costume all the way off, leaving Pelle stark naked.

Pelle was blushing furiously, but Wilhelm didn’t even seem realize what he had done. His entire attention seemed focused on Pelle’s cut.

In reality, though, Wilhelm was having trouble concentrating on the cut. Pelle’s dick and balls were mere centimeters from his face!

 _Focus, Wilhelm! Focus!_ he thought to himself. With great difficulty, he forced himself to focus on Pelle’s cut.

The cut ran from the front of Pelle’s thigh to the inside, right by his balls. In fact, if the metal edge had been just a bit more to the side, Wilhelm thought, it might have turned Pelle into a eunuch. But Pelle was lucky.

Pelle’s balls were in Wilhelm’s way, though. They were blocking his view of the cut. So Wilhelm did the logical thing—he gently grasped Pelle’s balls and held them aside so he could see.

At least, Wilhelm told himself it was the logical thing to do. And he really did have to do it. But his pulse pounded in his ears and his hand shook as he touched Pelle’s silky smooth little sack.

Pelle froze in shock. Wilhelm was holding his balls! Pelle’s breath caught in his throat. And then his already hardening cock got all the way hard. Harder, it felt, than it had ever been before. He couldn’t help it. No one had ever touched his balls before. And now Wilhelm was cradling them in his hand. Pelle’s cock was so hard it was visibly throbbing.

As difficult as it was, Wilhelm concentrated on the cut first. He wanted to make sure that Pelle was OK. And Wilhelm could see that Pelle **was** OK—his healing powers had already caused the cut to close.

Wilhelm wet a washcloth and washed the blood from Pelle’s leg, holding his balls aside and pretending as best he could to ignore the throbbing cock that was centimeters from his face as he did so. But he was having trouble pretending. He was keenly aware of Pelle’s cock.

Wilhelm had seen Pelle in his underwear many times before. He’d even caught glimpses of him naked in the showers and locker room at school, though those were mostly quick glances. He’d never really gotten a good look at Pelle’s cock. But now it filled his vision. And he was not surprised that it was as beautiful as the rest of him.

Pelle’s cock looked hard as a rock. It was pointed almost straight up and seemed to be throbbing in time with Pelle’s pulse. Like Wilhelm, he was uncircumcised. And even though fully erect, his foreskin completely covered his cockhead and even came up past it a bit.

Unlike Wilhelm’s own cock, though, the skin of Pelle’s cock was almost alabaster white. So were the perfect little balls hanging below, the left hanging just a little lower than the right.

And Pelle was still completely smooth down there. Not even a hint of a hair that Wilhelm could see. And given how close his face was to Pelle’s pubes, he could see very well.

Wilhelm felt that he shouldn’t really be surprised, at either Pelle’s lack of hair or the small size of Pelle’s cock, which looked to be a full centimeter smaller than Wilhelm’s own. Given Pelle’s height, he obviously hadn’t really started puberty yet, though he was just a month younger than Wilhelm.

Wilhelm loved Pelle’s smooth, hairless, young boy look. Though he had long lusted after Pelle, he was even more turned on by seeing Pelle’s cock and balls up close than he’d ever imagined. He had become instantly hard himself when he first saw Pelle’s hard cock. And he’d almost cum in his pants when he put his trembling hand on Pelle’s balls.

Seemingly of it’s own volition, Wilhelm’s hand slid up a little, moving from Pelle’s balls to his cock, grasping it ever so lightly, moving a little up and down.

Pelle couldn’t believe it. Was this really happening? Wilhelm had moved from caressing his balls to rubbing his cock! A little moan escaped Pelle’s lips.

The sound brought Wilhelm back to his senses. Shocked and horrified at his own actions, Wilhelm stumbled back.

“I-I’m s-sorry!” Wilhelm stammered, panic in his voice. “I didn’t...I mean, I...”

“It’s OK,” Pelle heard himself say, the words coming without conscious thought. Then Pelle blushed bright red and it was his turn to stammer. “I...I mean...”

Wilhem tried to stand up, but his own hard cock was trapped, pointing down in his tight pants, causing him to hunch over.

The absurdity of Wilhelm’s situation struck Pelle, even through his mix of embarrassment and arousal. And the fact that Wilhelm obviously had an erection, too, alleviated some of Pelle’s worry about his own.

Maybe it was an endorphin rush from having someone else touch his cock for the first time. Or maybe his horniness was overriding his caution. Whatever the reason, Pelle recklessly decided to go for it.

“Maybe you should take your pants off, too,” Pelle said with a little grin.

“W-what?” Wilhelm gasped.

“It’s obvious you can’t even stand up straight with them on,” Pelle said, standing up himself and stepping towards Wilhelm. “Besides, you’ve seen me naked, it’s only fair I get to see you.”

Wilhelm paused for a moment, looking first at Pelle’s hard cock and then up at Pelle’s face, seeing there a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

 _Is this really happening?_ Wilhelm thought. And then, _Why not?_

“OK,” Wilhelm said, as he started to undo his pants. “I guess it’s only fair.”

Wilhelm undid his pants and pushed them down and off, taking his socks off with them. He left his underwear on, but they were loose enough that he was finally able to stand up straight, though his cock made an obvious tent in them. He stripped off his shirt and then put his hands on the waistband of his underwear, preparing to pull them down. But then he paused. His heart beat rapidly. _Am I really going to do this?_

“Well?” Pelle asked after a couple of moments went by, unconsciously licking his lips in nervous anticipation.

 _What the hell?_ Wilhelm thought and, taking a deep breath, he dropped his underwear and stepped out of them.

Pelle watched closely as Wilhelm’s cock, freed from his underwear, snapped up and bounced once before coming to a rigid stop.

For several long seconds, the boys just looked at each other.

Seeing each other naked, the contrast in their physical maturity was even more pronounced. Wilhelm’s cock looked to be about 8.5 centimeters (3.3 inches) long, a full centimeter longer than Pelle’s. His balls were noticeably larger than Pelle’s, too. Wilhelm even had a few wispy hairs at the base of his cock.

Like Pelle, Wilhelm was uncircumcised. Though unlike Pelle, the tip of the head of Wilhelm’s cock poked out from his foreskin when erect. And rather than pointing almost straight up like Pelle’s cock, Wilhelm’s pointed out at about a 45 degree angle.

Wilhelm finally broke the silence. “So, um, what now?”

Pelle wasn’t quite brave enough to tell Wilhelm what he really wanted to do, that he wanted to touch and suck Wilhelm’s cock and have Wilhelm do the same to him. But Pelle couldn’t let the opportunity go by without at least trying something. He might never get a chance like this again.

“Do you...,” Pelle started hesitantly, looking down at the floor and once again blushing bright red. “Do you ever, um, jack off?” The blood pounded in Pelle’s head. He’d faced dangerous supervillains before, but saying those words was possibly the bravest thing he’d ever done.

Wilhelm also blushed deeply, though it was harder to tell with his darker skin. “S-sure,” he replied with a catch in his voice.

Wilhelm could hardly believe that he just admitted that he jacked off. He knew most boys their age did it, though most would never admit it. He’d been jacking off pretty much daily for several months, usually thinking of Pelle when he did, though he wasn’t about to admit that part of it.

But did Pelle’s question imply that he also jacked off? And that maybe he wanted to do it now?

“D-do you?” Wilhelm asked, stumbling a little over the words.

“Sure,” Pelle replied shyly, his face turning even redder, though that didn’t seem possible.

It took all of Wilhelm’s courage to say what he said next. “D-do you want to...maybe...jack off together?”

Wilhelm held his breath. A roaring filled his ears as the blood rushed though his head. The few seconds Pelle took to answer seemed to stretch on forever.

“Sure,” Pelle replied, as nonchalantly as he could, though his excitement and nervousness made his voice tremble. “If you want to.”

The boys grinned nervously at each other. They were both still a little anxious, but their mutual desire quickly caused that nervousness to be replaced with mounting excitement.

“Let’s sit on the bed,” Wilhelm said, turning to walk back into the bedroom. Pelle quickly followed.

Wilhelm’s bed was in the corner of the room, with the left side and headboard flush against the walls. Wilhelm climbed on the bed and sat with his shoulders against the wall and his legs outstretched, sliding down so his waist was mostly flat on the bed, but his chest and head were still upright. Pelle followed and sat next to him, copying his pose.

Both boys hesitated then, each still a little shy about being the first to start. But then, watching each other closely, they each took their throbbing cock in their right hand.

Pelle tried to make it last, but he was so turned on that just a few seconds was all it took. A little cry esacped his lips as he came, his powerful orgasm causing him to twist his hips.

Watching Pelle cum and hearing the little cry pushed Wilhelm over the edge, too. He also cried out, as the most powerful orgasm he’d had yet engulfed him. Like Pelle, he twisted around a little on the bed as he came.

Both boys collapsed, breathing heavily, still holding their sensitive cocks.

Pelle saw that Wilhelm actually produced a visible amount of cum, maybe a milliliter (1/4 teaspoon) or so, though it was mostly clear like his. He desperately wanted to bend over and lick it up, but he wasn’t quite brave enough to do it.

Pelle pulled down his foreskin, exposing the pink head of his cock which was glistening from the little drop of semen he produced.

“You can cum!” Wilhelm said. Based on how immature Pelle looked, he hadn’t been sure if Pelle could yet.

“Yeah,” Pelle replied. “Not like you, though.”

Wilhelm started toying with his own cum, spreading it around with his finger.

Pelle’s cock had started to soften, but he wasn’t ready for the moment to end yet, so he started stroking it again. A little to his own surprise, he quickly got hard again—though maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised considering how turned on he still was with Wilhelm there.

Wilhelm saw Pelle stroking and started to do the same. He quickly got hard again, too.

Both boys noticed that they held their cocks differently. Pelle held his between his thumb and first two fingers while Wilhelm wrapped more of his hand around his.

Pelle hadn’t been brave enough to lick up Wilhelm’s cum, something he now regretted, but he screwed up his courage enough to push things a little further. Slowly, Pelle moved his left hand over and placed it on Wilhelm’s thigh, rubbing it a little.

After a couple of seconds, Wilhelm switched to using his left hand to rub his cock so he could place his right hand on Pelle thigh, too.

For a few seconds, the boys stayed like that. Then Pelle slowly moved his hand further left, until it was over Wilhelm’s cock and balls.

Wilhelm moved his own hand away from his cock, allowing Pelle to take hold of it. Pelle caressed Wilhelm’s cock and balls and then gently grasped Wilhelm’s cock, wrapping his hand around it.

Wilhelm could hardly breath, but then he moved his right hand over so he could caress and take hold of Pelle’s cock.

Both boys were overwhelmed with sensations, the thrill of touching another boy’s cock for the first time combining with the thrill of being touched.

Together, the boys slowly started to jack each other off, though their positions made it awkward. Pelle was right-handed, too, which made it even more awkward using his left hand to jack Wilhelm’s cock.

Now that he actually held it in his hand, Wilhelm’s cock was more noticably bigger than his own. Pelle wrapped his small hand around it, like he had seen Wilhelm do.

And Wilhelm also found that Pelle’s cock was noticably smaller than his own, which for some reason turned him on even more. It looked even smaller in his larger hand. He found himself copying the way Pelle had held his own cock, between his thumb and first two fingers.

The boys jacked each other for a while, making little moans, throwing their heads back and closing their eyes to enjoy the sensations for a moment before opening their eyes again so they could look at each other.

Even though he had cum just a few minutes ago, it wasn’t long before Pelle felt another orgasm building inside him.

“Wait!” Pelle cried. “Slow down a little. I’m getting too close.” Pelle wanted to make this one last.

Wilhelm wasn’t sure why Pelle didn’t want to cum yet, but he certainly didn’t object to making it last longer. The longer he could do this with Pelle, the better. So Wilhelm obediently slowed his hand.

“You’d better slow down then,” Wilhelm replied. “I’m getting close, too.”

So Pelle also slowed down, to where he was barely moving his hand up and down every couple of seconds.

When Pelle felt his impending orgasm back off a little, he picked his pace up again. He couldn’t know for sure how close Wilhelm was to orgasm, so he had to go off of his own feelings.

When Pelle started moving his hand faster again, Wilhelm picked up the hint and did the same.

This time, Wilhelm was the first to say, “I’m getting close again.”

Pelle immediately slowed down, not wanting to push Wilhelm over the edge yet. Hearing Wilhelm say he was close, though, almost pushed Pelle too far.

“Stop!” Pelle cried, putting his right hand over Wilhelm’s on his cock to hold him still. It was a close thing, but Pelle managed to hold off his orgasm.

When he’d come down from the edge enough, Pelle removed his hand from Wilhelm’s hand. “OK.”

And when Wilhelm got close again, he did the same thing that Pelle had done; he put his left hand over Pelle’s on his cock to signal to Pelle that he should stop jacking for a while.

The boys kept this up for several long minutes, signaling to each other when they were getting close to orgasm, so that the other boy would back off for a while.

Wilhelm was keeping himself at a high but safe state, never getting too close to orgasm. But Pelle was riding the edge, allowing himself to get closer and closer with each cycle.

And finally, Pelle let it go too far. “I’m cumming!” he cried.

Pelle cried out as his orgasm crashed through him. He twisted around so much on the bed that Wilhelm had trouble holding on to his cock.

Though he stopped consciously jacking Wilhelm when his orgasm hit, Pelle held onto Wilhelm’s cock, and his climax caused him to squeeze and pull on Wilhelm’s cock. And that, combined with seeing Pelle cum, pushed Wilhelm over the edge, too.

Wilhelm also cried out as his orgasm hit. He’d thought the earlier orgasm a few minutes ago was big, this was even bigger. The incredible feeling caused him to thrash around on the bed a bit, too. His young boy cries of ecstasy mixed with Pelle’s even higher-pitched cries.

Somehow, both boys managed to hang onto each other’s cocks, milking each other through the several long seconds of their climax. As their orgasms finally started to fade, though, the milking sensation became too much on their post-climax sensitive cocks. Pelle clamped his hand over Wilhelm’s, unconsciously using his super strength to keep Wilhelm from moving his hand on Pelle’s cock. Wilhelm didn’t have super strength, but he did the same, clamping his hand over Pelle’s to keep it still.

The boys lay still, breathing heavily, still holding each other’s cocks as they came down from their climax.

Finally, after a couple of minutes, Wilhelm broke the silence.

“Wow! That was amazing!” Wilhelm was smart enough to realize that it wasn’t just the fact that he was doing this with Pelle that made his orgasm so great, though that was certainly a large part of it, but that drawing it out and making it take longer was part of it, too. He’d thought he knew a lot about sex through the research he’d done, but he was going to have to research it a little more. He wondered how Pelle knew.

“Yeah,” Pelle replied, sighing contentedly.

Pelle decided to do one more thing. Wilhelm’s cum was on Pelle’s hand. Using his left hand, Pelle wiped as much of Wilhelm’s cum onto his hand as he could. Then he brought his hand up to his face.

Pelle looked closely at Wilhelm’s cum. And then, after sniffing it, Pelle stuck out his tongue and tasted Wilhelm’s cum. Then he slowly and deliberately licked his hand clean, trying to get every drop of it.

Wilhelm gave a little gasp and his eyes went wide. Pelle was eating his cum! As he watched Pelle lick his cum, a little orgasmic frisson went through him.

Wilhelm had never even eaten his own cum. He’d thought about it and had even made plans in the past to do it when he jacked off as the thought turned him on, but every time, once he’d jacked off and cum, the desire had gone away.

But watching Pelle eat his cum made Wilhelm desperate to do the same to Pelle. So Wilhelm pulled back Pelle’s foreskin and wiped up what he could. There wasn’t much, though—Pelle cockhead was barely wet—but Wilhelm wiped it dry and then licked the stickiness from his hand.

Pelle had been a little afraid of what Wilhelm’s reaction would be to him eating his cum, so when Wilhelm also licked Pelle’s cum, Pelle could relax and enjoy it even more. He wasn’t sure which was a bigger turn on, eating Wilhelm’s cum or seeing Wilhelm taste his.

The boys finished licking each other’s semen from their hands at about the same time. Lowering their hands, they gave each other a bashful grin.

Then, his expression turning more serious, Wilhelm leaned towards Pelle. Not entirely sure, but hoping, Pelle did the same. As Wilhelm turned his face down, Pelle turned his face up. And the boy’s lips met in a gentle kiss.

They pulled apart after a second and gazed with wonderment into each other’s eyes. Each was thinking the same thought: _Was this more than a sex game? Could he actually like me?_

At that moment, the house intercom crackled to life. “Wilhelm, dinner is ready,” came Wilhelm’s mom’s voice.

Both boys jumped and looked guilty, as if they had been caught in the act. Realization that their tryst was still secret came a moment later, causing them to giggle as relief flooded through them, but the tender moment had been broken.

“I guess I should get going,” Pelle said, getting up and pulling on his regular clothes.

“Yeah,” Wilhelm replied reluctantly. At that moment he could kill his mom. But he started dressing, too.

“’Bye!” Pelle said as he opened the door, suddenly anxious to be out of there.

“Wait!” Wilhelm said. He couldn’t leave things like this.

Pelle hesitated. “Yeah?” he said as he looked back.

Wilhelm was suddenly embarrassed, too, and had trouble looking Pelle in the eyes. “Maybe you could come over again tomorrow, and we could...um...” Wilhelm blushed, looking down at the floor.

Pelle blushed, too, which was much more visible with his lighter skin. He generally went to Wilhelm’s house after school most days anyway, but now...

Pelle could hardly wait. He could actually feel his cock stirring again at the thought, despite the two huge orgasms he’d just had.

“Yeah!” Pelle replied enthusiasically, with a grin.

Wilhelm grinned back in relief and anticipation. Then Pelle ran out the door.

### *** End of Part 1 ***


	2. Part 2

### Chapter 5

The next morning, Pelle woke up late. He barely had time for a quick wank before leaving for school, though the fact that he’d dreamed all night about what he and Wilhelm had done together made his quick wank a good one.

“Hey, Pelle! Wait up!” Wilhelm called as usual as Pelle was walking to school.

“Hi, Wilhelm,” Pelle replied, pausing to let Wilhelm catch up with him. This time his blush was due to his memories of the day before.

The boys gave each other embarrassed grins as they walked for a while in silence, remembering what they’d done yesterday. Wilhelm, who usually chatted incessantly, was uncharacteristically quiet.

He was also confused. Wilhelm had suspected that there was some sort of trouble between Pelle and Ida, but he’d thought that Pelle was straight. After yesterday, though, he wasn’t so sure. It was the kiss at the end, more than the jacking off together, that made him wonder. Jacking off together, even jacking each other off, he could accept as just sex play boys their age, even straight boys, sometimes did. But the kiss seemed like something more.

Still, despite all that had happened between them, Wilhelm was still worried that Pelle didn’t like him the same way he liked Pelle.

Pelle, however, was not confused. He was certain now more than ever that he liked boys, not girls. Actually, he’d known that well before yesterday; what happened yesterday with Wilhelm just confirmed something that didn’t need confirming.

He was also pretty sure after yesterday that Wilhelm liked boys, too. And that he liked Pelle as more than a friend, which made Pelle’s heart sing.

The only spot of trouble was Ida. Pelle didn’t want to hurt her. But wouldn’t not being honest about how he felt hurt her more?

“So...,” Wilhelm said as they were entering the school grounds, unable to stand the silence any more.

“So...,” Pelle replied.

“Are you, um, still coming over after school today?” Wilhelm stammered, flushing.

“Yeah, of course!” Pelle replied enthusiastically, though he turned bright red. Despite having jacked off less than half an hour ago, Pelle felt his cock start to stir at the thought of what he and Wilhelm might do that afternoon.

“Cool,” Wilhelm replied as the bell rang, trying to sound nonchalant and failing entirely. “See you then.”

***

The school day passed slowly for Pelle, made worse by the fact that he had a hard on pretty much all day.

Having a constant hard on made it hard to concentrate on school work. It also made him feel like everyone could tell, though in actuality no one seemed to notice. Somehow he even made it through the post-gym shower without anyone noticing. (Actually, a couple of boys did notice, but they kept it to themselves rather than making Pelle the target of mockery for it, mostly because they didn’t want the other boys to wonder why they were looking at Pelle’s cock.)

Finally, though, the final bell rang and the school day was over. Just as Wilhelm and Pelle started off towards Wilhelm’s house, though, the Antboy alert on Pelle’s phone went off.

“Robbery in progress at First National Bank,” his phone announced.

“Shit!” Pelle exclaimed. Why did it have to happen now?

Wilhelm was disappointed, too, but duty came first. “You’d better go. It might be the Crimson Ranger again.”

“The what?” Pelle asked, with a little laugh.

“The Crimson Ranger. You said he wore a mask like the Lone Ranger, but red.”

“But he looked more like a gangster than the Lone Ranger. He had a red suit and fedora on, too.”

“The Crimson Gangster then. Whatever. You need to get going. You’ll need to go home and get your disguise first.”

“Shit,” Pelle said again. He was tempted to skip it and let the police handle it, but he knew Wilhelm wouldn’t be able to let it go. And, he thought with an internal sigh, neither could he.

“OK,” Pelle said. “Meet you at your house later.” And he took off at a run.

***

“Shit!” Pelle said again, removing his helmet and throwing it across the room.

“Hey, careful with that!” Wilhelm said, picking it up and examining it. “We don’t have many of them.”

The boys were in Wilhelm’s bedroom. Pelle had just arrived on his bicycle.

Pelle had raced home from school, threw on his Antboy disguise, and rode his bicycle as fast as he could to the scene of the crime, but this time he was too late; the red-masked villain (the Red Ranger? Crimson Gangster?) had already finished the robbery and taken off.

Pelle suspected that the red-masked man was going to be trouble, big trouble—supervillains always were—and he’d wanted to stop him before he got too far along with whatever he was planning. But Pelle’s lack of efficient transportation had stymied that.

Still, part of him was a little relieved. His one encounter with the red-masked man had not ended all that well.

“Sorry,” Pelle said, feeling guilty. He knew that Wilhelm put a lot of time and money into Pelle’s suits and gadgets and he was really grateful, though he didn’t always show it.

“It’s OK,” Wilhelm replied. “It doesn’t look damaged. Besides, I’m working on a new model.”

If Pelle was honest with himself, what he was really annoyed about was that the time he’d wasted trying to catch the red-masked man had messed up his plans with Wilhelm. Still, he and Wilhelm were together now.

Pelle pulled his arms out of his Antboy outfit and pushed it down, and then sat on Wilhelm’s bed to pull it off of his feet. This left him sitting in nothing but his underwear on Wilhelm’s bed.

Wilhelm, turning around after setting the Antboy helmet on his desk, just stopped and stared at Pelle. He was struck once again by just how beautiful Pelle was.

He knew Pelle was twelve years old, just a month younger than himself, but sitting there in his underwear Pelle looked a lot younger. He was small and slim, with perfectly smooth white skin, not a hair to be seen under his arms, or anywhere else.

He looked so innocent, too. Had yesterday really happened? Had Pelle really jacked him off? And licked up his cum?

As Wilhelm looked at Pelle, he noticed Pelle’s underwear start to tent up. In a matter of seconds, it was obvious that Pelle had a full hard on, the outline of his cock visible in his underwear. Wilhelm felt his own cock stir in his pants.

Pelle, in turn, looked at Wilhelm and saw the outline of Wilhelm’s cock as it strained against his pants.

Both boys were obviously hard, yet both were hesitant to say anything. Neither quite knew how to get things started again.

_This is stupid!_ Pelle thought. They both obviously wanted to do sex stuff together again. Why was it so difficult?

_Screw it_ , Pelle thought. “So, are you going to take your clothes off?” he said.

“S-sure,” Wilhelm stammed as he quickly started stripping.

In mere seconds, Wilhelm had pulled off all of his clothes except his underwear. He then stood there with his thumbs in the waistband, once again hesitating. Pelle still had his underwear on, too.

Pelle stood up and walked over to Wilhelm. He then got on his knees, grasped Wilhelm’s underwear and slowly pulled them down.

Wilhelm’s hard cock was pulled down as Pelle pulled down his underwear. Then, when his underwear got far enough down, it sprang up, slapping Wilhelm in the stomach and bouncing back.

Wilhelm swallowed hard. Pelle was on his knees before him, his head level with Wilhelm’s crotch, looking closely at Wilhelm’s cock and balls.

Pelle loved the sight. Wilhelm’s cock looked perfect.

Pelle gently grasped the end of Wilhelm’s cock between his fingers and thumb and pulled it down a little so he could see the base better.

“You’ve got a few hairs,” Pelle said.

“Yeah,” Wilhelm replied, a little self-consciously. “I’ve been thinking of shaving them off.”

Pelle wasn’t sure what he thought about that. He was kind of looking forward to getting hair himself, though that was more because it would hopefully mean his cock was bigger. He didn’t really care about the hair. Maybe he’d shave his off, too. If he ever got any!

But getting a close-up look at Wilhelm’s cock and balls was just part of what Pelle had planned.

Pelle skinned Wilhelm’s foreskin back, fully exposing his dusky red cockhead. Slowly, Pelle moved the skin of Wilhelm’s cock back and forth a few times, covering and then exposing the head.

As Pelle pulled Wilhelm’s foreskin back again, a little drop of precum seeped out and glistened at the slit.

Wilhelm stood frozen, hardly daring to breath. Was Pelle going to do what he thought he was going to do?

Holding Wilhelm’s foreskin back, Pelle stuck out his tongue and gently licked the tip of Wilhelm’s cockhead, right on the slit, licking up the precum, savoring the taste.

A shiver went through Wilhelm and he nearly collapsed. Only the fact that his desk was behind him kept him from falling. He was able to lean back against it and hold it for support.

Pelle slowly licked Wilhelm’s entire cockhead. He swirled his tongue all over it, and around the ridge and the exposed, soft skin beyond.

Wilhelm threw his head back and groaned as the sensations flowed through him. Was this really happening? Was Pelle really licking his cock?

Then Pelle wet his lips with his tongue, pursed his lips together, and slid his lips down Wilhelm’s cock as far as he could.

Wilhelm almost came right then. He gasped and grabbed a hold of Pelle’s head.

Pelle couldn’t quite get his lips all the way down Wilhelm’s cock before he started to gag, so he backed off a little and paused a moment savoring Wilhelm’s cock.

Pelle loved having Wilhelm’s cock in his mouth. He loved the slightly salty taste and the soft firmness of it. Pelle almost came himself just from the realization that he was sucking Wilhelm’s cock.

Pelle wasn’t entirely sure what to do now, though. He’d seen some videos online that he wasn’t supposed to see and he’d certainly imagined it a lot, but he had zero actual experience. He hadn’t even touched another cock before yesterday!

But he knew that a rhythmic motion up and down the shaft, like when jacking off—or fucking—was the general idea, so Pelle started sliding his lips up and down Wilhelm’s cock, sucking a little as he did so.

And that was too much for Wilhelm. Just a few strokes up and down and Wilhelm came.

Wilhelm grabbed a hold of Pelle’s head tightly and thrust forward as he orgasmed, moaning, his cock throbbing and shooting in Pelle’s mouth.

Pelle felt Wilhelm cum. He gagged a little as Wilhelm shoved his cock all the way in, but then was able to pull back a little. Wilhelm’s cock throbbed repeatedly, shooting his semen into Pelle’s mouth. Pelle could feel and taste Wilhelm’s cum.

Pelle kept sucking, moving his mouth up and down as Wilhelm came, trying to make it feel as good as he could. After a few seconds, though, Wilhelm started whimpering.

“Stop! Stop, Pelle!” he finally gasped, trying to push Pelle away and off of his now overly-sensitive cock.

With Pelle’s super strength, Wilhelm had about as much chance of forcing him away as he would of forcing a train to stop, but Pelle immediately pulled his mouth off Wilhelm’s cock. He sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still savoring the taste of Wilhelm’s cum.

Wilhelm leaned back heavily against his desk, breathing hard. His still hard cock glistened with Pelle’s saliva.

“Wow, Pelle,” Wilhelm said shakily. “That was amazing!”

Pelle waited quietly for Wilhelm to recover. He was glad that Wilhelm was apparently OK with him sucking his cock. But would Wilhelm respond in kind? Pelle wasn’t sure, and he certainly didn’t want Wilhelm to do it if Wilhelm didn’t **want** to do it. But he hoped Wilhelm would at least jack him off. Pelle really needed to cum.

After what seemed a long time, though was really only several seconds, Wilhelm recovered enough to realize that Pelle was still sitting on his heels in from of Wilhelm, toying with his own cock through his underwear.

“OK,” Wilhelm said. “Your turn.”

Pelle’s breath caught with excitement, but he had to be sure Wilhelm wasn’t just doing it because he felt obligated.

“Are you sure?” Pelle asked. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Are you kidding?” Wilhelm replied. At that moment, Wilhelm wanted to suck Pelle’s cock more than anything, even more than he wanted superpowers himself. Well, almost.

“Come on, stand up,” Wilhelm said, grabbing Pelle under the arms and pulling him to his feet. He pushed Pelle back a little, towards his bed, and then knelt down in front of Pelle, like Pelle had done to him. Then, also mirroring what Pelle had done, he grasped Pelle’s underwear and pulled them down. Pelle’s hard cock sprang up.

Wilhelm had already seen Pelle’s cock and balls close up when he was treating Pelle’s cut the previous day, but he took another long look. Pelle’s little cock really was perfect. The rock hard 7.5 centimeter (3 inch) length was covered by smooth, white skin. Even though erect, there was enough foreskin that it still completely covered the head. Pelle’s cute little balls below looked in perfect proportion to his cock. And his pubes were completely smooth and hairless.

The fact that Pelle was still hairless was a big turn on for Wilhelm. He also loved the size of Pelle’s cock and balls. They weren’t quite little-boy small—he had started to grow a tiny bit—but they were close.

Wilhelm licked his lips in anticipation, his desire welling up.

“Here, move back a little. Sit down on the bed,” Wilhelm said.

Pelle did as instructed and sat on the bed.

“Now lie back,” Wilhelm said.

Pelle lay back, breathing quickly, anticipation making his nerves tingle. Wilhelm knelt before him.

Wilhelm had as little experience in oral sex as Pelle did. Like Pelle, he hadn’t even touched another boy’s cock until he touched Pelle’s the previous day. He’d seen a few more videos than Pelle had and done more reading in his research into sexuality, but he also had no actual experience.

But he did have the experience of what Pelle had just done. So Wilhelm decided to copy him.

He started by skinning Pelle’s foreskin back, exposing his cockhead. Pelle’s cockhead had a beautiful pinkish hue.

Copying Pelle, Wilhelm stuck his tongue out and licked.

Pelle lifted his head up at the touch of Wilhelm’s tongue to look at Wilhelm licking his cockhead, then he dropped his head back and groaned. He shivered, almost cumming right then.

Wilhelm licked all over Pelle’s little cockhead, around the ridge and foreskin. And then he changed things up a little.

Wilhelm ran his tongue down the underside of Pelle’s cock, down to his balls. Then he licked and sucked Pelle’s little balls, pulling at the skin with his lips, licking all over them. Pelle’s balls were salty with sweat; Wilhelm loved the taste.

After Pelle’s balls were thoroughly wet, Wilhelm ran his tongue back up Pelle’s shaft. Pulling the foreskin back, he again licked Pelle’s cockhead. Pelle moaned and put his hands on Wilhelm’s head, running his fingers through his hair.

Then Wilhelm went for it. He engulfed Pelle’s cock, managing to get the entire thing in his mouth, and sucked hard, sliding his lips quickly up and down.

Pelle cried out and arched his back, pushing his cock up into Wilhelm’s mouth as he came. He held Wilhelm’s head down so tightly that Wilhelm couldn’t lift his head off of Pelle at all. Pelle didn’t mean to; he just wasn’t aware of his strength in that moment.

Luckily, Wilhelm had no desire to lift his head or remove his mouth from Pelle’s cock. Pelle’s cock was small enough that it didn’t gag him, even with his lips pressed tightly to Pelle’s hairless pubes.

Pelle gave a high-pitched cry as his orgasm hit him, his cock buried to the hilt in Wilhelm’s mouth. Wilhelm couldn’t move up and down, so he used his tongue as best he could as Pelle’s cock throbbed repeatedly and shot his cum into Wilhelm’s mouth.

There wasn’t much, just a couple of drops or so, but Wilhelm could taste it. He finally got a good taste of Pelle sweet cum.

As Pelle’s climax waned, he collapsed back onto the bed and released the pressure on Wilhelm’s head, which allowed Wilhelm to start moving his lips up and down Pelle’s cock again.

“Stop!” Pelle gasped after a few seconds, pushing Wilhelm’s head away. His cock was too sensitive in its post-orgasmic state.

Wilhelm sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like Pelle had, breaking a string of spittle that ran between Pelle’s cock and his mouth. As Pelle recovered, Wilhelm watched Pelle’s glistening cock soften and lean over.

Pelle finally blew out his breath with a whoosh and sat up on his elbows to look at Wilhelm. “Wow, that was great!” he said with a grin.

Wilhelm grinned back. “Yeah, it was!”

Pelle wasn’t sure if Wilhelm meant it was great getting a blow job or giving a blow job, but then he decided it didn’t really matter. Pelle loved both; maybe Wilhelm did, too.

And Pelle loved Wilhelm. Before he even knew that he was saying it, the words slipped out.

“I love you,” Pelle said.

Wilhelm’s heart leapt in his chest. This wasn’t just sex play to Pelle, Pelle loved him!

But what about Ida?

“Really?” Wilhelm replied, confused and unsure.

Pelle blinked. He hadn’t meant to say those words at all yet, but that certainly wasn’t the reply he expected. Did that mean that Wilhelm didn’t love him back? Was he just interested in sex?

But then Wilhelm continued, “What about Ida?”

And Pelle understood. Wilhelm thought he still loved Ida. He probably thought **Pelle** was just interested in sex.

Pelle looked down, unable to meet Wilhelm’s eyes, ashamed that he hadn’t cleared things up with Ida yet.

“I don’t love Ida, not like that,” Pelle said. Then he took a deep breath. The next part was hard to say. “I like boys, not girls.”

Then he looked up at Wilhelm, a little apprehensively. “I like you.”

Wilhelm’s heart leapt again. “Me, too!” he said. “I mean, I like boys, too,” he stumbled. “I mean, I like you!”

Wilhelm took a deep breath to steady himself and tried again. “I mean, I love you, too.”

Pelle released the breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as warmth rushed over him.

Pelle slid off of the bed to kneel on the floor with Wilhelm and the boys threw their arms around each other, hugging tight.

They held their naked bodies together tightly for several long seconds, then pulled back slightly so they could look into each other’s eyes, keeping their arms around each other. And then they leaned in for a lingering, tender kiss.

Pelle wanted more than anything to stay there with Wilhelm and talk, or kiss, or do some more sex stuff—or, ideally, all of the above—but it was late and he had to get home. His parents might be oblivious to, well, pretty much everything, but even they would notice—probably—if he didn’t come home for dinner on a school night. And Wilhelm’s parents would expect him for dinner soon, too.

So, reluctantly, the boys broke their embrace and started getting dressed.

“I’ll tell my parents that I’m staying over here tomorrow night,” Pelle said as he opened the door to leave. The next day was Friday, so his parents wouldn’t mind. He’d get to spend the whole night with Wilhelm. If they wanted, they could suck each other’s cocks all night long! Pelle felt his dick starting to get hard again at the thought.

“Cool,” Wilhelm replied, starting to close the door behind Pelle.

But then Pelle turned back to Wilhelm and gave him a quick kiss and a smile. “’Bye,” Pelle said.

“’Bye,” Wilhelm replied as Pelle got on his bicycle and rode off. What was Pelle thinking? Somebody could have seen them kiss. Did Pelle want people to know? Surely he wanted to at least break up with Ida first.

“Shit,” Wilhelm cursed as he closed the door. It only at that moment occurred to him that the door from his bedroom to the outside was a sliding glass door and he hadn’t closed the blinds. If someone had walked by earlier then they could have seen everything that he and Pelle had done together!

Luckily, Wilhelm’s door didn’t face the street, but he made a note to keep the blinds closed when Pelle was there.

### *** End of Part 2 ***


	3. Part 3

### Chapter 6

Dr. Albert Gæmelkrå, a.k.a. The Flea, was sitting in his cell in Dragonstone prison, staring at the clear wall. He was always sitting and staring. Sitting, staring, and thinking. There was nothing else to do.

Gradually, he became aware of a presence in the shadows. A rather curious occurrence; he never got visitors.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Gæmelkrå asked gruffly as a large, powerfully built, imposing man in an impeccably-tailored, expensive suit stepped into the light.

“I’m a friend,” replied the man.

Gæmelkrå’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t have any friends.”

“Haven’t you heard the saying, ’the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’” the man asked.

Dolt! Of course Gæmelkrå had heard it. Did the man think he was an idiot?

“What do you want?” Gæmelkrå repeated impatiently.

“I want you to help me defeat Antboy,” the man replied.

“Antboy!” Gæmelkrå hissed.

So the man had trouble with Antboy and wanted his help. Gæmelkrå certainly wouldn’t mind seeing Antboy taken down, though he’d rather do it himself.

“What makes you think I know how to defeat Antboy?” Gæmelkrå asked.

“Don’t play games,” the man said menacingly, stepping closer to the cell. “I know your history with Antboy. Do you have information I can use or not?”

Gæmelkrå sneered at the man’s implied threat. Gæmelkrå was already in prison. What was the man going to do to him there?

“And what do I get out of it if I do?” Gæmelkrå replied.

“Isn’t seeing Antboy crushed and broken enough?”

Gæmelkrå pondered his options. If he couldn’t hurt Antboy himself then maybe this man could do it for him. Could be fun. It’s not like he had anything else to do.

“Maybe I can help you after all,” Gæmelkrå said with a little smile.

***

The Flea was helpful after all, the man reflected. Seems like every superhero has their weakness. And apparently Antboy’s was sugar—or, more precisely, lack of it.

Sneaking into Antboy’s, a.k.a. Pelle Nøhrmann’s, house while he was at school and replacing the sugary snacks in his Antboy costume with sugar-free versions was simplicity itself. Now all he had to do was set the trap.

***

Once again Pelle had a hard on the entire school day. Despite jacking off the previous night, and again this morning, he was still constantly hard, thinking of what he and Wilhelm had done the day before, and what they might do that night. He was pretty sure that at least one boy had caught on that he was hard today in the locker room, but Pelle could tell that the other boy had a hard on, too, so neither gave the other away.

Pelle had just met up with Wilhelm outside the school after the last bell when the Antboy alert on his phone went off again.

“Robbery in progress at Ingen Industrial Machine Shop,” his phone announced.

“Fuck!” Pelle exclaimed loudly, using the worst swear word he knew, causing a couple of kids to look over at him curiously.

Wilhelm blinked in surprise. He’d never heard Pelle use that word before.

“It’s OK,” Wilhelm said, though he was disappointed too. “We have all night. Go take care of this first.

“But be careful!” he added.

“I will!” Pelle said with a grin as he raced for home.

***

Pelle frowned as he quickly changed into his Antboy disguise. Something felt off. His enhanced sense of smell detected a lingering order in his room. He doubted anyone else could smell it at all, but it was there. And it was somehow familiar, though he couldn’t place it.

Pelle shook it off. Maybe his mom had used a new cleaner in his room. That was probably it.

Pelle grabbed his bicycle and took off for Ingen Industrial Machine Shop as quickly as he could, asking his phone for directions.

***

Pelle was almost too late again. The robbery was over by the time he got there, but the thief—and he was sure it was the red-masked man—was just driving away.

It was difficult to follow a getaway car on a bicycle—even for Pelle—but somehow he managed it. By cutting between roads when he could, he kept up with the car, even after the police finally lost it. Every time it seemed that Pelle had lost it too, the car showed up again.

Pelle followed the car to a warehouse in the shipping district, hanging back so he wouldn’t be seen. It was definitely the red-masked man. Pelle watched as he left the car and entered the warehouse.

Pelle tried calling Wilhelm on his phone to let him know where he was and have him send the police, but there was no signal.

Pelle debated backing off and heading to Wilhelm’s house. He could call the police on the way and let them know where the man was. But he couldn’t be sure the man would stay there. And he also wasn’t sure the police could handle him. The guy had superpowers.

Wilhelm would have to wait. Duty came first.

With a sigh, Pelle pulled a chocolate bar from his belt stash and took a big bite as he walked up to the warehouse door.

### Chapter 7

Pelle stopped just over the threshold, the door closing behind him.

The huge warehouse was empty, except for the red-masked man standing in the exact middle.

“Welcome, Antboy!” the man called.

Pelle was taken aback. The man was obviously expecting him. Something was wrong.

He walked forward warily. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours,” Pelle called, stalling for time.

“You’re right,” the man chuckled. “I do know your name…Pelle Nøhrmann!”

Pelle stopped, suddenly cold inside. The man knew who he was. That meant he knew who his parents were. And his friends.

Pelle had been on the verge of running away. He hated looking like a coward, but this was too obviously a trap. But he couldn’t leave now. Pelle had to stop the man there and then. If he didn’t then the man might hurt someone he cared about.

Pelle pulled out another candy bar. He was going to need the extra strength.

***

Something was wrong. Pelle could feel himself weakening. It felt like a lack of sugar, but that was not possible—he had eaten more than enough sugar to fuel his superpowers before the fight started.

But Pelle felt himself growing weaker and weaker. He took another swing at the man, but he stumbled and the man caught Pelle with an uppercut that lifted him off his feet and threw him a good 10 meters (33 feet) across the room.

Pelle staggered to his feet shaking his head, dazed by the powerful blow that hurt much more than it should have. But he was too slow. Before he even saw it coming, the man struck Pelle across the face again with another super-strong blow that again sent him flying several meters.

Pelle desperately tried to stand, but he could barely struggle to his hands and knees. The man kicked Pelle in the ribs, sending him smashing into the wall.

Pelle groaned, in more pain than he’d ever been before. What was wrong with his powers? They usually provided some protection, greatly lessening, though not completely eliminating, pain and injury. But the super-strength blows delivered by the red-masked man were devastating. And Pelle’s powers were not working as they should. He felt the force of every blow.

The man grabbed Pelle and thew him back towards the center of the room. Pelle flew a good 20 meters (66 feet) before crashing hard into the floor.

Pelle tried to get up, but he was so weak and in so much pain that he couldn’t even push himself up to his hands and knees anymore.

Pelle flopped down on his back. He knew he was beaten. His powers had failed him. And he’d failed his friends and family.

***

The red-masked man walked slowly over to where Pelle lay and looked down at him in victory.

“Let’s see what the mighty Antboy looks like without his fancy costume,” the man said with a sneer as he bent down to remove Pelle’s mask.

Pelle tried to resist, though he didn’t know why it mattered as the man already knew who he was. But Pelle could barely lift his arms.

The man pulled off Pelle’s helmet.

_Whoa_ , he thought, looking at Pelle. _He’s beautiful!_

The man had known that Antboy/Pelle was a young boy before removing the mask. That much had been obvious. Based on his size, the man estimated that Pelle was around ten years old. But he hadn’t seen Pelle without his mask before. The boy was incredibly cute. He looked so young and innocent lying there.

And he was completely in the man’s power. He grinned in anticipation.

He’d originally thought about just killing the kid, but this was going to be much more fun. He liked young boys. He liked hurting young boys. And he meant to truly hurt Pelle.

He bent down and grabbed the collar of Pelle’s costume and, using his super-strength, ripped the front completely off.

He paused again to admire the boy. The sight of the slim, lithesome, young body caused his cock to stir. Breaking Pelle would be he most fun he’d had in a long time.

Though still dazed, Pelle felt the chill of cold air on his skin. What was going on? Why had the man taken off his clothes?

Then Pelle felt the cold air hit his cock and balls, too, as the man ripped apart his underwear.

“So Antboy is just a little boy after all,” the man sneered as Pelle lay there naked.

He spoke in a jeering manner, but the man’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at the beautiful naked boy lying before him. Pelle’s cock and balls—little-boy small, smooth and hairless—turned him on immensely.

The shock of being naked helped Pelle regain some of his senses. He started to panic. But he was still too weak to move. He couldn’t even cover himself.

“It’s time to teach you a lesson about what happens to little boys that interfere with me,” the man growled. And he started to take off his own clothes.

Pelle watched with mounting dread as the man stripped. This couldn’t really be happening. Why was the man doing this? Pelle struggled mightily, but could still do little more than twitch.

In mere moments, the man had stripped himself naked except for his red mask. And then Pelle saw the man’s hard cock.

Pelle gasped. It was huge!

Pelle had never seen an adult cock in real life before, only in online photos and videos, but this one looked massive. In his sex education classes they’d said that the average adult cock was around 14 to 15 centimeters (6 inches) long, but this had to be closer to 20 centimeters (8 inches) long! Compared to Pelle’s 7.5 centimeter (3 inch) cock, the man’s was gigantic.

Pelle was in a full panic now. What was the man going to do to him?

The man wrapped his hand around his large cock, which stuck straight out from his body, and idly jacked it a few times as he walked over to Pelle. Then he stepped over Pelle and dropped to his knees, straddling Pelle’s chest. He pulled back his foreskin, fully exposing the purple head

The man’s huge cockhead was mere centimeters from Pelle’s face. It filled Pelle’s vision. Pelle could see precum leaking from it, stringing down towards his face.

With his left hand, the man reached behind him and grabbed Pelle’s little balls, his massive fist engulfing them.

“Now,” the man said pleasantly, as if they were just having a genial conversation. “You are going to suck my cock. And you are going to do it properly, with no funny business, or I will crush your little balls and turn you into Antgirl.” And the man squeezed Pelle’s balls, not enough to cause permanent damage, but enough to cause tremendous pain.

Pelle screamed, his back arching, as the pain shot through him. Tears sprang to his eyes.

“Do you understand me?” the man asked.

Pelle looked back at him, with just a hint too much defiance.

The man backhanded Pelle hard and gave Pelle’s balls an even harder squeeze.

Pelle screamed again in agony. He believed that the man would do exactly as he threatened and crush his balls into paste. Pelle realized he had no choice, if he didn’t want to become a eunuch. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Yes, what?” the man demanded. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes, I will suck your cock,” Pelle replied, closing his eyes in shame.

The man smiled at seeing the defiance drain from Pelle. “Good,” the man said. “I’m going to turn you into a first-rate cocksucker.”

The man released his death grip on Pelle’s balls and used his left hand to tilt Pelle’s head forward while guiding his cock with his right hand. Then he moved forward and pressed his large, purple cockhead against Pelle’s lips.

Pelle tried desperately to think of something, anything he could do to escape this, but he was still too weak to even move. In defeat, Pelle parted his lips.

“Wrap your lips around your teeth,” the man commanded. “I don’t want to feel them scraping my cock.”

Pelle tried, but the man’s cock was huge compared to Pelle’s mouth. It was more than 5 centimeters (2 inches) across. And Pelle was just a twelve-year-old boy, small for his age. Pelle stretched his jaw as wide as he could as the man pushed his cock in.

“Use your tongue on my head. Make it feel good,” the man said.

And Pelle, crying inside, did as he was told.

“That’s it,” the man grunted as Pelle starting moving his tongue over the man’s cockhead. God, it felt so good!

He loved dominating boys, watching them cry as he forced them to suck his cock. Somehow it seemed like boys were better at sucking cock than girls, even if they’d never done it before. Maybe it was instinct.

Or maybe it was just his imagination. Either way, he loved shoving his cock into the mouth of a crying boy.

He pushed his cock further into Pelle’s mouth, causing Pelle to choke and gag. The angle was wrong; the man couldn’t push his cock down Pelle’s throat. Pelle might have been thankful of that if he’d even considered it a possibility, but it didn’t occur to him that someone might try to do that.

The man thought of it, but he didn’t do it. He had other plans. But he did push his cock in as far as he could, filling Pelle’s mouth completely and hitting the back of Pelle’s throat.

Pelle couldn’t breath. The man’s cock was so big compared to Pelle’s throat that it cut off his air supply.

Pelle started to panic again. Was the man going to kill him by choking him with his cock?

The man watched Pelle struggle to breath, the panic in his eyes turning him on even more. But killing Pelle wasn’t the plan.

Before Pelle’s lack of air went too far, the man pulled his cock out a little, just enough to let the boy breath. Pelle coughed and gagged around the man’s cock, sucking in air through his nose.

And then the man grasped the back of Pelle’s head with both hands and started up a rhythm, sliding his cock in and out, fucking Pelle’s mouth, hitting the back of Pelle’s throat with each thrust.

Pelle cried silently, trying not to choke on the huge cock filling his mouth. Shame and despair filled him.

The man picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster, bruising Pelle’s throat as he repeatedly slammed his cock into it. Finally, he grunted and stopped, and Pelle felt the cock in his mouth throb as it started shooting blasts of cum.

Pelle was amazed at the amount. It felt to him like a liter of cum, though it was probably actually only several milliliters.

The man pulled back a little as he continued to cum, his orgasm magnified by the fact that he was cumming in a pretty boy’s mouth. His semen filled Pelle’s mouth and leaked out around his lips, which were still stretched around the man’s cock. Pelle choked and gagged, but he had no choice but to swallow.

The man finally leaned back as his orgasm ebbed. He pulled his cock out of Pelle’s mouth and wiped it across Pelle’s face, smearing his semen across Pelle’s chin and tear-stained cheeks as Pelle gasped for air.

“So how’d you like your first taste of man cum, little boy? Or was that your first taste? You did a good job. Maybe you’ve had some practice. You like sucking cock, don’t you? I bet you’re a regular little cocksucker.”

Pelle kept his eyes closed as he lay there in shame. He’d liked sucking Wilhelm’s cock. Did that make him a cocksucker? Maybe, but that was different. That was with someone he liked, someone he loved. He hated this man and what he made Pelle do.

_At least it’s over_ , Pelle thought.

But he was wrong. Very wrong.

### Chapter 8

The man stood up to admire Pelle’s beautiful body again. The tear stains and cum smeared across Pelle’s face made him even more attractive to him. Despite just cumming, before even getting fully soft, the man’s cock started getting hard again. He smiled. The best was yet to come.

Roughly, the man rolled Pelle over onto his stomach. Then he balled up Pelle’s torn Antboy costume and boots and stuffed it under Pelle’s crotch, raising his ass.

Pelle’s heart pounded in fear. No, surely the man wouldn’t do that to him. “No, please!” Pelle whimpered.

But hearing Pelle plead in his high-pitched boy’s voice just turned the man on more.

He knelt down between Pelle’s legs and spread apart Pelle’s beautiful round ass cheeks to get a good look at his asshole. It was a perfect little pink pucker.

Then he leaned forward and licked it.

Pelle gasped. That was unexpected. He twitched as he felt the wet warmth of the man’s tongue touch his anus.

The man started expertly rimming Pelle’s ass. He flicked his tongue over the hole, licking the surface, circling around. Then he started pushing his tongue inside.

Pelle tried to keep his asshole closed, but he couldn’t. The man forced his tongue into Pelle’s ass, licking inside Pelle’s anus, getting deeper and deeper.

And Pelle’s body started to respond.

Pelle hated what was happening, that the man was doing this to him, but the physical sensations caused by the man tonguing his ass were incredible. It felt good. It felt **really** good.

Which made Pelle hate it even more. But he couldn’t stop the feeling. Against his will, he felt his own cock start to get hard.

_No, this can’t be happening!_ Pelle thought. He hated it! But he also liked it. It felt so, so good! As much as he hated it, there was a part of him that enjoyed it. And Pelle hated himself for that. The shame and humiliation of what was being done to him turned into shame and disgust at himself.

The man tongued Pelle’s asshole for several minutes. And against his will, Pelle felt his anus relaxing, allowing the man to push his tongue deeper and deeper. By the time the man stopped, Pelle’s cock was rock hard and throbbing, responding to the increasingly enjoyable sensations flowing from his asshole.

When the man pulled his tongue out, Pelle sighed in relief and, to his horror, disappointment. Tears started to leak from his eyes again as he was overcome with shame.

The man decided that spit wasn’t going to be enough lube. Pelle was even smaller than he’d realized when they were fighting; he barely looked ten years old. And he was certain the boy was an anal virgin. He doubted he’d even be able to get his cock in without proper lube. Even with it he’d probably rip the boy’s ass open. And though he wanted to hurt Pelle, he didn’t want to damage him too much.

Luckily, he had come prepared. The man reached over to his pile of clothes and removed a little tube. He squeezed some lube onto his fingers and rubbed it into Pelle’s asshole. Then, slowly, he started to push a finger in.

Pelle moaned as the man’s finger, lubricated by something, penetrated his virgin ass. The man’s finger was large, especially compared to Pelle’s small ass, but because of the thorough rimming the man had just given him, his finger slipped into Pelle without any pain. Instead, the intruder sliding into his anal canal caused waves of pleasure to run through Pelle.

The man twisted his finger around in Pelle’s ass, pushing it in and pulling it out, until it slid in and out easily. Pelle tried to hate it, he really tried, but it felt so good! Pelle started quietly crying, again, ashamed.

And then the man touched Pelle’s prostate.

Pelle jumped and gasped as an electric jolt went though him. _What was that?_

The man was an expert at playing with young boy’s asses. He rubbed and teased Pelle’s prostate, knowing exactly how to make it feel good.

And feel good it did. The sensations flooding through Pelle were incredible! Pelle started moaning with pleasure, unable to help himself. God, it almost felt like he was cumming! And it kept going.

And then it stopped as the man pulled his finger out.

Pelle was dazed. Little waves of pleasure still flowed through him even though the stimulation had stopped.

And then he felt something much larger than a finger press against his asshole.

_God, no!_ Pelle thought. _Please, no!_

But the pressure against his asshole kept building. And then the man started whispering in his ear.

“You ever been fucked, little boy? I’m guessing not, you’re so tight. I’m going to be your first. I’m going to fuck your little virgin ass. And I bet you like it. And in the future, whenever you have sex, you will remember this, that I fucked you first.”

A sob fell from Pelle’s lips.

The man pressed his lubed cock harder against Pelle’s tight, tiny asshole. Pelle was a small boy, completely inexperienced in anal play. He’d never had anything up his ass before the man’s tongue. The man was a full-grown adult with a larger than average cock. His cock was more than three times the size of Pelle’s, 20 centimeters (8 inches) long and more than 5 centimeters (2 inches) across.

Pelle screamed, his yell echoing through the empty warehouse, as the man forced the head of his cock past Pelle’s tight sphincter, stretching it wide. To Pelle, it felt like a tree trunk was being shoved up his ass.

But the man continued to press forward, pushing his cock in deeper.

Pelle’s kept screaming as the man’s cock slid deeper and deeper into him. It felt impossibly big, much bigger than it had looked. It seemed like it would never stop. And despite the preliminary tonguing and fingering, it hurt so much!

But Pelle’s screams were like music to the man’s ears. A thrill coursed through him as he watched his cock slide into the young boy’s ass, the boy’s anus stretched tight, oh so incredibly tight, around his cock. Slowly, without mercy, he kept pushing in, deeper and deeper, pushing more and more of his cock past Pelle’s tight sphincter and into the soft warmth beyond.

He was still barely two-thirds of the way in when he felt his cockhead bottom out in Pelle’s rectum. He paused then for several seconds, giving Pelle a chance to adjust.

And for Pelle, the pain started lessening. Or maybe it was just starting to be masked by other sensations. It still hurt, but—God help him—it felt so good, too. More than good. It felt amazing! The feeling of fullness, of being stretched open and touched inside was incredible. And the man’s cock was pressing against that special spot inside of him that he’d been touching with his finger earlier, causing Pelle to pant in pleasure.

And then, slowly, the man started fucking Pelle.

He started by pulling out just a few centimeters, and then back in, back and forth, just those few centimeters.

And despite the lingering pain, it drove Pelle wild. The man’s cock rubbed back and forth inside of Pelle, sending amazing orgasmic pulses flooding through him.

And something in Pelle’s psyche broke. He was being fucked—raped—by this awful man and he should hate it—he DID hate it, with every fiber of his being—and yet it felt so good, so very, very good. Better than jacking off, better than having his cock sucked.

Pelle couldn’t decide whom he hated more: the man for doing this to him, or himself for enjoying it so much.

Gradually, as Pelle’s abused ass adjusted to the intrusion and the man was able to slide his cock in and out more easily, he increased both the speed and the depth of his stroke. He still only pushed his cock halfway into Pelle’s ass, but now he was pulling it almost all the way out before pushing back in, faster and faster.

And the pleasurable sensations flowing through Pelle continued to grow. There was still pain, but the growing pleasure masked it more and more. Pelle was moaning incessantly now from the constant buzz of the orgasmic feelings flooding through him. It felt almost, but not quite, like cumming, and it went on and on.

The high-pitched, little boy moans coming from Pelle drove the man wild. He knew what he was doing to Pelle, how good it felt.

And then Pelle felt himself start to really cum.

Pelle fought it. He didn’t want to cum. He couldn’t cum. Not from this. Not from getting fucked, getting raped, by this evil man.

But he couldn’t stop it. The pressure kept building and building until, finally, the dam burst.

Pelle’s moan turned into a wail and his body started to shake as the most incredible orgasm washed over him. It was so far beyond any orgasm he’d ever had, far beyond what he’d thought was possible.

And it didn’t stop! Again and again, wave after wave of the most powerful, incredible orgasm shook his entire body.

His untouched cock throbbed as he came. It felt like jizz was pouring out of his cock, more than the couple of drops he’d ever made before.

And the feeling didn’t stop. He couldn’t tell if he was having a series of orgasms or one continuous orgasm, but he didn’t care. He was beyond caring about anything.

The man felt it when Pelle came, when his asshole spasmed—or tried to—around his cock, and it almost pushed him over the edge, too, but he held it off. He wasn’t done yet.

He continued to fuck Pelle as the boy came, prolonging Pelle’s orgasm, watching him shake, feeling Pelle’s asshole try to contract around his cock. And Pelle kept cumming. Every orgasmic pulse caused his ass to contract around the man’s large cock, which triggered another orgasmic pulse.

Pelle lost all track of time, all sense of place. Nothing existed but the rhythmic pain and pleasure of his incredible orgasm.

The man wanted Pelle to have this pleasure. More precisely, he wanted to force Pelle to have this pleasure.

But he also wanted to cause Pelle more pain.

Deciding that the boy had had enough of his forced ecstasy, the man grabbed Pelle’s waist tight and shoved his cock all the way into Pelle’s ass. His cock pushed past the bend at the end of Pelle’s rectum and several centimeters into his colon.

Pelle tried to scream again as intense pain ripped through him from deep inside, the ultimate pleasure he was experiencing blending with incredibly, tearing pain, but all that came out was a strangled, hoarse croak, his body too weak and broken to even cry out.

The man continued to fuck him, full strokes now, his large balls slapping against Pelle’s little balls when he bottomed out, the head of his cock pushing deep, deep inside Pelle.

And then, with a yell, the man came. He shoved his cock in all the way and held it there as it throbbed again and again, shooting spurt after spurt of his seed deep inside the boy.

The man kept his cock buried in Pelle’s ass as he came down off of his climax. Finally, though, he pulled his slowly softening cock from Pelle’s ass, watching closely as the young boy’s abused asshole gaped open for a few seconds before trying to twitch closed, squeezing out some cum and blood and mucus. He always loved that sight.

He got to his feet a little shakily. Pelle was the best fuck he’d had in a long time.

Pelle was only vaguely aware of a sense of emptiness and loss after the man pulled his cock out of his ass. He was barely conscious, still coming down off of a twisted combination of tremendous pain and orgasmic heights that he’d never even imagined existed.

Eventually, though, the pain of his torn ass reasserted itself and Pelle started to recover his senses.

Pelle was confused. Where was he? What just happened?

And then in a flash he remembered.

He’d just been raped. Brutally fucked up the ass.

And he’d enjoyed it. More than enjoyed it. Despite the pain it had been the most incredible, amazing ecstasy.

And Pelle was horrified.

It was too much for him to take. The unbelievable pleasure, far beyond what he had ever dreamed, combined with the hatred and abhorrence of the cause of that pleasure. He hated and despised himself.

Pelle let out a heart-wrenching, full-throated sob. He sobbed uncontrollably, with full body-wracking heaves.

Cum dripped from the end of the red-masked man’s mucus and blood covered cock as he looked down at the sobbing boy. A frisson of delight passed through him as he reveled in the torment he’d caused the boy.

As he used a torn scrap of the Antboy costume to clean off his cock, he thought once again about just killing the boy. The man would enjoy that, too. But he’d enjoy even more knowing that the boy would have to live the rest of his life with the memory of this night.

So he got dressed and left with a sense of satisfaction. Antboy wouldn’t be bothering him anymore.

Pelle didn’t even notice him leave. He was too wrapped up in his own self-hatred and shame. It wasn’t so much the fact that he was raped—it was that he derived such pleasure from it. He didn’t know if he could live with that, with himself.

Pelle would have continued to cry, but the human body can only take so much. He slipped mercifully into unconsciousness.

### *** End of Part 3 ***


	4. Part 4

### Chapter 9

Wilhelm was starting to worry. Pelle had been gone for a couple of hours and Wilhelm hadn’t heard from him. It wasn’t like Pelle to be out of touch for so long.

Wilhelm tried calling him, but the call went straight to voicemail. Either Pelle’s phone was off or he didn’t have a signal.

Wilhelm paced around his room, trying not to worry. But after the third hour passed without any word from Pelle, Wilhelm knew something was wrong.

Wilhelm was ready to go help Pelle, but where was he? First, Wilhelm had to find him.

He knew that approximately three hours ago, Pelle had gone to Ingen Industrial Machine Shop to try to stop the Red Ranger from committing another robbery. Was it possible that Pelle was still there?

Wilhelm quickly went online to check out the police report. Technically, those files weren’t open to the public, but Wilhelm had bypassed those restrictions a long time ago.

The police report described their pursuit of a car from the scene of the crime, but apparently they lost it. And there was no mention of Antboy.

_His phone!_ There were a few places around town where the cell coverage was spotty. Maybe Pelle was in one of them and couldn’t call. Wilhelm pulled up a map of the cell towers in the area and charted their estimated range, looking for spots without coverage. He came up with three good possibilities.

He was only guessing that Pelle was in a cellular dead zone. It was possible that his phone was broken or just turned off instead. But Wilhelm didn’t have much else to go on.

The Antboy helmet had a transmitter in it. If Wilhelm could get close enough then he would be able to track it. But the range was only a few hundred meters.

Wilhelm made up his mind. He would start his search in the dead zone that was closest to where the police last saw the thief’s car.

He quickly thew some supplies in a backpack and headed out.

***

_There’s Pelle’s bike!_

Wilhelm’s deduction had been good. When he got close to the second cellular dead zone on his ist, his receiver picked up the signal from the transmitter in the Ant-suit helmet, and he was able to track it to a warehouse in the shipping district. He found Pelle’s bike outside. And the Antboy helmet was definitely in that warehouse.

Wilhelm hid outside and watched the warehouse for several minutes, watching for activity, trying to figure out what to do. He didn’t have superpowers like Pelle. He probably couldn’t even win a fight against a normal man, let alone a superpowered villain. So he couldn’t just go barging in. He would have to use stealth.

But there was no activity around the warehouse, no movement or sound. It looked like no one was there.

Wilhelm sighed. He could only see the one door anyway, not counting the big loading dock doors which were locked with chains. He didn’t really have any choice.

Wilhelm silently ran up to the door and pressed himself against it, listening for sounds from the other side. But he heard nothing.

As quietly as he could, Wilhelm cracked open the door and peeked inside. There was no movement that he could see.

Taking a deep breath, Wilhelm opened the door and stepped inside. The big warehouse was empty.

Almost empty. There was something in the middle of the floor. It looked like…

Wilhelm broke into a run. He dropped to his knees as he ran up to Pelle, sliding the last meter.

Wilhelm quickly assessed the situation. Pelle was lying face down on the floor, completely naked. He had massive bruises and contusions covering his body. Something had dried on his face and something—Wilhelm didn’t want to think what—was leaking out of his anus.

And he wasn’t moving.

“Please don’t be dead! Please don’t be dead!” Wilhelm repeated again and again.

He quickly felt for Pelle’s pulse and let out a shaky breath as he found it. It was weak, but slow and steady. Pelle was just unconscious. Wilhelm nearly cried in relief.

Wilhelm tried to calm himself down. He knew he needed to think clearly.

Pelle had obviously been in a fight and had obviously lost. But how was that possible? Surely Pelle would have run away if he felt he was losing.

Or maybe not. He might just be stubborn enough to fight on. Regardless, Pelle had obviously been beaten badly. The bruises covering his body made that clear. And then…

Wilhelm didn’t want to face it, didn’t even want to think it, but he made himself take a closer look.

He was right. It was a mixture of cum and blood that was leaking from Pelle’s ass.

Wilhelm felt himself start to come apart. His shoulders heaved as he cried. Pelle—his sensitive, beautiful Pelle—had been raped.

_Come on! Pull yourself together!_ Wilhelm thought viciously, sniffing back his tears. He need to think clearly. Pelle needed his help. That was all that mattered at the moment.

For some reason, Pelle’s healing powers weren’t working. He must have lost his powers, which was why he lost the fight. Did he not have enough sugar?

Wilhelm looked around and found Pelle’s belt. Some of the snacks were gone, probably eaten. Did that mean there was something wrong with the snacks?

Luckily, one of the supplies Wilhelm had stuffed in his backpack was a sugary drink. His hands shook as he twisted off the top, spilling a little.

_Shit!_ How was he going to get Pelle to drink it? He should have brought an IV solution.

_Stupid!_ , Wilhelm thought. How could he have gotten an IV solution there? And how would he have given it to Pelle? He didn’t know how to administer an intravenous solution.

Wilhelm took a deep breath. He realized he was spiraling out of control again. He had to focus!

“Pelle! Pelle, wake up!” Wilhelm said, shaking Pelle gently. But there was no response.

Carefully, Wilhelm rolled Pelle onto his back. Then, holding Pelle’s mouth open, he poured in a little of the juice.

After a moment, Pelle coughed and sputtered, choking. Wilhelm quickly rolled Pelle onto his side.

Wilhelm tried again. This time, Pelle swallowed a little before choking.

The third time, Pelle swallowed most of it. Then Pelle groaned.

Wilhelm’s heart leapt! Pelle just needed sugar.

After a couple more sips of juice, Pelle opened his eyes. “Wilhelm?” he whispered.

Wilhelm couldn’t help himself. He started to cry. “It’s me, Pelle!” he said, smiling through his tears.

But Pelle was despondent. Wilhelm shouldn’t be there. He wasn’t worthy of Wilhelm. He wasn’t worthy of anyone.

Pelle coughed and choked again as Wilhelm tried to give him more juice. Wilhelm frowned. “Please, Pelle, you need to drink some more.”

Pelle closed his eyes, disconsolate, but he let Wilhelm feed him the rest of the bottle.

Wilhelm kicked himself for only bringing the one bottle. But there was nothing he could do about it now. He had to get Pelle home. “Pelle, do you think you can stand?”

With Wilhelm’s help, and with the sugar starting to work its magic, Pelle managed to struggle to his feet, though Wilhelm had to hold him up.

_Now what?_ Wilhelm thought. Pelle was naked. It was late at night, but they still couldn’t walk through the streets like that.

Wilhelm took off his coat and put it on Pelle. It was too large for him, but that was good as it came down far enough to cover Pelle’s cock and balls. Wilhelm buttoned it up.

And though the Antboy suit was ruined, it turned out that the boots were still usable. Wilhelm helped Pelle get them on his feet. Then, leaving Pelle swaying precariously, Wilhelm gathered up the Antboy helmet and the torn scraps of the suit and underwear. After thinking about it a moment, Wilhelm used the scraps of fabric to wipe the cum and blood off of the floor, leaving no trace of what happened.

Then, with Pelle leaning against Wilhelm and Wilhelm’s arm around him for support, the boys slowly started walking home.

***

It was a long walk back to Wilhelm’s house. They had to leave their bicycles behind; there was no way Pelle would be able to ride on one and Wilhelm couldn’t walk the bikes while supporting him.

As they slowly walked home, Wilhelm noticed that in addition to leaning on him for support, Pelle was walking funny. Wilhelm silently raged at the red-masked man.

More than once along the way Wilhelm considered calling someone for help. But who could he call? The police would ask too many questions, likely leading to Pelle’s identity as Antboy being exposed. The same was true for their parents, or anyone else really.

He briefly considered calling Ida, the only other person who already knew that Pelle was Antboy, but he figured that Pelle would not want him to do that.

So they walked.

### Chapter 10

Somehow, the boys made it back to Wilhelm’s house without being seen. Despite the fact that it was now late at night, Wilhelm was a little surprised at that.

Pelle hadn’t said a word the entire walk home. Wilhelm, not knowing what to say, was uncharacteristically silent as well.

They sneaked into Wilhelm’s bedroom and Wilhelm gently helped Pelle sit on the edge of his bed. He then grabbed a candy bar from a drawer and pressed it into Pelle’s hands. “Here, eat this.”

After a couple of moments, Pelle slowly unwrapped and ate it, moving like an automaton, staring ahead without expression.

Wilhelm carefully pulled off Pelle’s boots and then undid his coat, pushing the sleeves off Pelle’s arms one at a time as Pelle transferred the candy bar from one hand to the other, leaving Pelle naked again.

Pelle’s bruises were already visibly fading as the sugar he’d consumed fueled his recuperative powers. Wilhelm estimated that with enough sugar, the bruises would fade completely within a few hours. By morning, Pelle would probably be completely healed.

At least physically. Wilhelm was less sure about Pelle’s psychological state.

First things first, though. He needed to get Pelle cleaned up.

After finishing the candy bar, Pelle just sat there, staring blanking. Wilhelm led Pelle into the bathroom and turned on the shower, but Pelle just stood there.

So Wilhelm stripped naked himself and then guided Pelle into the shower with him.

But Pelle just stood there under the stream of water. So Wilhelm took a bar of soap and started washing him.

He started with Pelle’s head, gently cleaning the dried tears and cum off of his face. Then he worked his way down, washing away the sweat and dirt.

When Wilhelm got to Pelle’s waist, he skipped down to Pelle feet and started working his way up. Eventually, though, he got to Pelle’s pubic area and, though he didn’t want to make Pelle uncomfortable by touching him there, both his front and back needed washing. So, in as matter-of-fact a manner as he could manage, Wilhelm washed Pelle’s cock and balls.

Pelle still showed no reaction. But he responded to Wilhelm’s commands, so Wilhelm had Pelle turn around and bend over.

As gently as he could, Wilhelm washed Pelle’s ass. He was afraid he might hurt Pelle more by touching his asshole, but he wanted to make sure that all the cum from that evil man was gone.

After rinsing off all of the soap and turning off the water, Wilhelm carefully dried Pelle off with the fluffiest towel he had.

Though he thankfully hadn’t seen any fresh blood when washing Pelle’s ass, Wilhelm was still worried. He’d obviously been bleeding earlier.

“Pelle, we should probably make sure that he didn’t seriously injure you when…” Wilhelm couldn’t say it. “When…you know,” he finished lamely.

Pelle didn’t respond.

“Here,” Wilhelm said, leading him back to the bed. “Lie down on your stomach with this pillow under your groin.” It didn’t occur to Wilhelm that that position echoed what happened to Pelle earlier.

But Pelle didn’t react to that. He got on the bed as Wilhelm suggested.

Very carefully, as gently as he could, Wilhelm spread Pelle’s ass cheeks and looked closely at Pelle’s anus. To his relief, it looked OK. Wilhelm had never actually seen an anus up close before. In fact, other than looking at his own in a mirror, he hadn’t really seen one at all. But Pelle’s looked fine to him. There was no sign of injury. If it had been torn then Pelle’s powers must have healed it already.

Of course, Wilhelm couldn’t rule out internal injuries, but he couldn’t very well take Pelle to the hospital and have them check. He’d just have to hope that either Pelle wasn’t seriously injured or that his super-healing ability would repair any harm.

“Does it hurt?” Wilhelm asked, touching him with a finger, oh so very lightly.

For a few seconds, Pelle didn’t respond. Then, “Not really. It’s just a little sore,” he said quietly.

Relief washed through Wilhelm, not just because of what Pelle said, but because Pelle spoke at all.

“Why don’t we get some sleep,” Wilhelm said. It was well after midnight.

“OK,” Pelle replied softly. He let Wilhelm help him get settled properly into bed and then fell asleep almost instantly.

Wilhelm turned off the lights and carefully climbed into bed between Pelle and the wall, pulling the covers over them.

But Wilhelm could not get to sleep.

It wasn’t just his concern and heartache for Pelle that kept him awake. There was something else nagging at him, something he didn’t want to face.

He was jealous.

Jealous that someone else had touched Pelle. Jealous that someone else had had sex with Pelle. Jealous that someone else had taken Pelle’s virginity.

And Wilhelm hated himself for feeling that way. It wasn’t like Pelle had cheated on Wilhelm. He’d been raped!

But Wilhelm couldn’t help it. He felt jealous. And then he felt guilty for feeling jealous.

And on top of everything else, Wilhelm had a raging hard on.

He hated himself for that, too. Pelle, his best friend, the boy the loved, had been horribly hurt, and he had a hard on!

It started while he was washing Pelle in the shower. He had tried very hard not to think about sex or get aroused, but when he started washing Pelle’s cock and balls, he couldn’t help it.

Then when he examined Pelle’s asshole, it turned him on even more. He couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to fuck it.

And then he couldn’t help imagining what it was like when that man fucked Pelle, and he found that turned him on, too.

And Wilhelm loathed himself for it.

Sighing, Wilhelm closed his eyes and tried desperately to go to sleep.

### Chapter 11

Pelle slept for more than twelve hours, well into the afternoon. While he slept, Wilhelm went and retrieved their bicycles, not wanting Pelle to have to go back to that warehouse.

By the time Wilhelm got back, all of Pelle’s bruises were gone. Looking at him, still sleeping, no one would ever suspect that he’d been in a terrible fight and badly hurt the night before.

While Wilhelm waited for Pelle to wake up, the incoming alert for the Antboy email account sounded. Pelle had thought the email account was a stupid idea when Wilhelm first set it up, but Wilhelm thought it was good publicity for people to have a way to communicate with Antboy. It was mostly fan mail, which Wilhelm generally handled himself.

Having nothing better to do while waiting for Pelle to wake up, Wilhelm opened the Antboy email account to view the latest messages. The most recent one was odd. There was no return address and the subject line was “WATCH ME”.

Apprehensively, Wilhelm opened the email.

_Antboy, if you bother me again then this video will be posted all over the internet._

With a sense of dread, Wilhelm opened the attached video file.

It was a video of the night before, of Pelle getting fucked. You couldn’t see the man’s face, but you could clearly see Pelle’s face, and the cock sliding in and out of his ass.

_God, it’s huge!_ Wilhelm thought. _How could he take that without it tearing him open?_

Wilhelm couldn’t look away, though he knew he should. And then…

Wilhelm watched in shock as Pelle came. It was obvious that Pelle was having an orgasm. A **massive** orgasm.

***

Pelle woke up just in time to catch the end of the video, showing him cumming while being fucked up the ass. In the video it looked like he was enjoying it.

_That’s because I_ _ **was**_ _enjoying it_ , Pelle thought, as tears sprang to his eyes.

And now Wilhelm knew. Wilhelm **saw** it!

Pelle couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t be around Wilhelm. He still loved Wilhelm, loved him with all of his heart. But now that Wilhelm knew…

Pelle knew that he probably wouldn’t be alive if Wilhelm hadn’t found him in that warehouse and taken care of him. But that just made it worse. Part of him felt that it would have been better if Wilhelm hadn’t found him. That it would have been better if he had died, if it would have kept Wilhelm from knowing.

Pelle had to get out of there. He threw on some clothes, not knowing or caring if they were his or Wilhelm’s, and, ignoring Wilhelm’s pleas to stay, he stumbled out the door, blinded by tears.

***

The sudden flurry of Pelle getting dressed broke Wilhelm out of the trance the video had him in.

“Wait! Pelle!” he cried.

But Pelle was already out the door.

Wilhelm thought about going after him, but there was no way he could stop him if Pelle didn’t want to stop. Pelle could toss him aside like a leaf. He’d have to give Pelle some time to calm down.

Wilhelm sat back down, still in shock himself. He’d known that Pelle had been raped, but he hadn’t expected…

Wilhelm squeezed his eyes shut tightly and wrapped his head in his arms, but he couldn’t get the image out of his head of Pelle cumming.

With a choked sob Wilhelm turned to the computer. He hated himself for doing it, but he couldn’t stop himself either. He hit play again on the video.

### Chapter 12

The midday sun beat down on Pelle, clinging to the side of the building.

Pelle was in one of his favorite places, perched high up on a ledge on the Ashby apartment building. It wasn’t the tallest building in the city, but it was high up on a hill, and from there Pelle had a magnificent view of the town. His school was just down the hill.

He shouldn’t have been up there without wearing his Antboy disguise. Someone might see him and, since there was no way a person could normally get up there without a crane or scaffolding, they might put two and two together and figure out he was Antboy.

But he didn’t have an intact Antboy costume anymore. And he didn’t much care if anyone saw him or not. With or without the costume, he wasn’t going to be Antboy anymore.

It was around noon on Tuesday. Three days since he’d walked out of Wilhelm’s room. Four since that night. The night that man had raped him.

Pelle had spent most of that time lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. His parents accepted his assertion that he was sick and let him stay home from school. As far as they knew, he was still home in bed right now.

Though he had spent more than 48 hours straight in bed, he couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he was back in that warehouse, getting fucked by that man. And enjoying it. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and he loathed himself more every time he thought of it.

At one point, he even tried sticking a finger up his ass to see if he could find that spot inside that had felt so good, and he hated himself for that, too. His fingers were apparently too short anyway.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he climbed up this building to sit and think. To think about killing himself.

The question was how. He would have to purposefully let his superpowers weaken again by avoiding eating sugar. The easiest thing would probably be to just sit on that ledge until his powers weakened enough and then jump, though that could take hours.

Faintly, Pelle heard the school bell ring. It was time for lunch. He could see some of the students exiting the school building to eat their lunch in the yard. They were too far away for Pelle to be sure, but he thought he saw Wilhelm.

Wilhelm had come by Pelle’s house, of course, after Pelle refused to answer the phone, knocking on the door and calling up at his window. But Pelle had refused to answer. He didn’t want to see Wilhelm. Or, perhaps more precisely, he didn’t want Wilhelm to see him.

Wilhelm saw him getting fucked by that man. Wilhelm saw him enjoying getting fucked by that man.

Movement caught Pelle’s eye. A semi-trailer truck was heading down the steep hill road. That by itself wasn’t unusual, but it was moving fast and gathering speed. If it didn’t start slowing down soon then it wouldn’t be able to stop in time.

The truck continued gathering speed. And it was heading for the school.

Instinct took over and Pelle started moving before conscious thought. He pushed himself off of the ledge and fell the twenty stories to the ground, landing on his feet and absorbing the impact without injury. Then he started running as fast as he could. He couldn’t run as fast as the truck was moving, but it was still up the road from him. If he could run fast enough then maybe he could intercept it.

Pelle made it, though just barely. He planted himself in the middle of the road and braced himself right before it hit.

The truck smashed into Pelle going at least 80 kph (50 mph). Pain smashed through Pelle—it felt like getting hit by a truck—but his superpowers lessened the pain and helped him absorb the impact, and kept him from breaking any bones. But the truck barely slowed at all.

Pelle twisted around so his back was against the truck’s smashed grill and dug in his heels. The friction of his shoes against the road quickly caused them to disintegrate, leaving his bare feet sliding painfully across the road. But it worked. The truck slowed and eventually came to a stop, just a few hundred meters from the school.

The school was safe. Wilhelm was safe.

Pelle quickly ducked to the side of the road, out of sight, hoping no one saw him. He wanted to stay and check on the driver—it looked like the driver was unconscious—but he heard sirens. The police were already on the way. He’d have to let them handle it.

As Pelle walked home, a little gingerly on his sore feet and with every muscle in his body aching, he thought about what would have happened if he hadn’t been there. That truck would have run straight through the schoolyard, injuring and possibly killing students and teachers.

Maybe killing himself was a selfish thing to do. Though he couldn’t save everyone anyway. On a normal day, he would have been in school himself and not have known about the truck until it was too late.

But what about the red-masked man? He was still free. Free to hurt others like he hurt Pelle.

Pelle was no longer so sure about committing suicide, but he was sure about one thing. Whether or not he decided to kill himself there was something else he needed to do first.

He needed to kill the red-masked man.

***

Word of the runaway truck made its way through the school. Though nobody saw him, everyone was sure it was Antboy who stopped it. And when Wilhelm heard the story, he was sure, too. It was Pelle!

As soon as the final bell rang, Wilhelm raced over to Pelle’s house. He’d been by there several times over the past few days, but Pelle never answered when Wilhelm knocked, though Wilhelm was sure he was home. He didn’t know, though, if Pelle was purposefully refusing to answer or if he was still so wrapped up in his own pain that he didn’t even know Wilhelm was there. But now Pelle was out of the house.

Apparently he was still out of the house, though, when Wilhelm got there. Or maybe he was refusing to answer again.

Wilhelm trudged home, dejected, but a little more optimistic that Pelle might eventually be OK.

Wilhelm entered his bedroom and then stopped short. Pelle was there waiting for him.

“Pelle!” Wilhelm yelled excitedly. He moved to give Pelle a hug.

“Hi, Wilhelm,” Pelle replied in a subdued voice. He turned a little away from Wilhelm, unable to look at him.

Wilhelm aborted the attempted hug, sobering quickly. Pelle looked…fragile.

“It’s good to see you, Pelle,” Wilhelm said softly instead, his heart aching. He didn’t know what to do to help.

“I need your help,” Pelle said, getting straight to the point.

Wilhelm blinked a couple of times as Pelle seemed to answer his thoughts. “Anything, Pelle! What do you need?”

“I need you to track down the red-masked man,” Pelle said firmly, though he cringed inside at mentioning the man out lout.

Wilhelm cringed, too. He’d been afraid of this, that Pelle might try to take revenge. He knew that Pelle wouldn’t fall for the low sugar trick again, but he didn’t know if Pelle could beat the Red Ranger even at full strength. And he couldn’t bear to see Pelle hurt any more. He didn’t think Pelle could bear it either.

“Why?” Wilhelm asked warily.

“So I can kill him,” Pelle replied softly, coldly.

Wilhelm gasped, shocked. That was not what he expected. Pelle wasn’t a killer. “What? You can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Pelle said hotly, switching from unemotional to raging in an instant.

“Because…” sputtered Wilhelm. “Because…you just can’t! Heroes don’t kill people!”

“Bullshit!” Pelle exclaimed, causing Wilhelm to cringe again. “How many people did Wolverine kill in that last movie? Fifty? A hundred? Superheroes kill people all the time.”

Pelle was right, of course. The body count in some superhero movies and shows tended to be rather high. But…

“Those are just stories,” Wilhelm replied. “This is real life. You can’t just kill someone.”

“Why not?” Pelle repeated. “Doesn’t he deserve it for what he did to me?”

_Did he?_ Wilhelm wasn’t sure. In the heat of the moment, when Wilhelm first found Pelle in that warehouse, hurt and abused, he would have said yes. But now he wasn’t so sure. The man certainly deserved punishment, a severe, horrific punishment—Wilhelm would gleefully watch the man’s balls cut off—but did he deserve death?

“I don’t know,” Wilhelm said miserably. “Maybe he does. But that isn’t for you to decide.”

“Why not? I’m the one he hurt!” Pelle yelled.

“I know,” said Wilhelm softly, tears coming to his eyes.

Wilhelm realized that he didn’t really care himself if the masked man was killed. But he was afraid. Afraid of what Pelle would become if he purposefully killed someone. Murdered someone. Even someone as evil as that man. If he did that, if he **could** do that, then he wouldn’t be Pelle anymore.

“But you can’t, Pelle, you just can’t!” he said desperately. “You can’t kill someone in cold blood!”

Pelle fumed. Couldn’t Wilhelm see that he had to do this?

“What about all of the other people he hurt? I’m doubt I’m the first, and I certainly won’t be the last. Should we just let him roam free so he can rape other boys?” Pelle asked sarcastically.

Wilhelm winced. “Of course not. But you don’t have to kill him to stop him. You could turn him in to the authorities, let them decide what to do with him.”

Pelle laughed derisively. “The authorities? What are they going to do? Lock him up for stealing things? They don’t know what he did to me. Should I tell them?

“I’m the one that has the power to stop him,” Pelle continued. “So I get to decide.”

“But Pelle,” Wilhelm countered, “‘with great power comes great—’”

“Don’t!” Pelle shouted, cutting Wilhelm off. “Don’t you dare quote Spider-Man to me! This isn’t some comic or movie! He… I…”

Pelle choked back a sob and turned his back to Wilhelm, trying to gather himself.

“Are you going to help me or not?” Pelle asked after a moment. His back was turned to Wilhelm, but Wilhelm could hear the pain in his voice.

_I could say no_ , Wilhelm thought. Pelle might still be able to find the man without his help, but at least Wilhelm wouldn’t be an accessory to murder.

Wilhelm looked at Pelle, his beautiful, gentle, sweet Pelle, who was plotting to murder a man.

Pelle was shaking. He was taut, like a string stretched too tight that could break at any moment.

And Wilhelm realized that he couldn’t say no to anything Pelle asked.

“OK, Pelle,” Wilhelm said softly. “I’ll help.”

The sense of solace that flowed through Pelle at Wilhelm’s answer was so great that it brought tears to his eyes. Pelle couldn’t accept Wilhelm’s love, but he couldn’t reject it either. Until that moment he hadn’t realized how much he needed to know that Wilhelm still cared.

“Thanks, Wilhelm,” Pelle said, sniffing and wiping his eyes with his hands. “How long do you think it will take to find him?”

Wilhelm paused. Pelle had just given him another way out. He could lie and say it would take a while. Use the time to try to convince Pelle to change his mind.

But Wilhelm couldn’t do that either.

Wilhelm sighed. “I already found him.”

“What? Where is he?” Pelle demanded spinning around to face Wilhelm.

“Well, I don’t know where he is, but I know where he will be,” Wilhelm replied.

Pelle frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I figured out what he’s doing,” Wilhelm explained excitedly. “That is, I figured out what he’s building. You see, the things he’s been stealing, it’s not for money. He’s making—”

“Wilhelm!” Pelle interrupted. “Just tell me where he’s going to be!”

“OK,” Wilhelm replied, subdued. “The last piece he needs is in a high security vault on the top floor of the Lacuna Labs building. He’s going to try to rob it.”

Pelle knew the Lacuna Labs building. It was a high rise on the edge of town.

“When?” Pelle asked.

Wilhelm paused again. He knew the day though he didn’t know the exact time. The man had been sloppy when sending that email and Wilhelm had been able to trace it back and break into his account, allowing him to read all of the man’s emails. But even in his private correspondence he was circumspect.

“Tomorrow,” Wilhelm replied with a sigh. “I don’t know the exact time, but I know it will be in the evening.”

Pelle could work with that. He could stake out the place. Lay a trap.

“OK. Thanks, Wilhelm,” Pelle said gratefully as he turned to go.

“Wait!” Wilhelm said.

“Don’t try to stop me!” Pelle said. He didn’t want to get drawn into an argument again. He was afraid Wilhelm might actually convince him not to do it.

“No,” Wilhelm said, subdued. “I won’t. I…I have something for you.” Wilhelm pressed a button under his desk and the door to his hidden closet slid aside. On display inside was a new Antboy suit.

Pelle was suffused by a sense of gratitude. What would he ever have done without Wilhelm? He could never have been Antboy without him. And then a sense of shame. He didn’t deserve Wilhelm’s friendship. But he was going to take advantage of it anyway.

“Wow! Thanks, Wilhelm,” Pelle said again as he started to strip.

Wilhelm watched as Pelle changed into the Antboy suit, ready to help if he needed it as the new suit was different from the old one.

“You’re supposed to wear it naked,” Wilhelm said, blushing a little, as Pelle started to put it on while still wearing his underwear.

“Oh,” Pelle said, and he stripped off his underwear, though Wilhelm noticed sadly that Pelle seemed to purposefully keep his back turned to him while he did so.

Wilhelm had designed the new armor to conform tightly to Pelle, intending it to show off his boyish body. As Pelle finished putting it on, Wilhelm felt he’d succeeded—Pelle looked incredibly sexy in it. At least, if you thought young boys were sexy.

As Pelle examined himself in the mirror, he thought it looked bad ass. It was kind of like a Batman suit from the movies—one of the good ones. Though it also made him blush. It was very tight and very revealing.

“It’s composed of a type of impact armor,” Wilhelm explained. “It should give you a little more protection.”

Pelle was at a loss for words. How had Wilhelm made this? It must have cost a fortune.

For a moment, Pelle forgot about everything but his love for Wilhelm. He grabbed Wilhelm in a tight hug. “Thanks, Wilhelm.”

Shocked, it took Wilhelm a moment to hug back. Then he wrapped his arms around Pelle tightly.

But the moment didn’t last. Pelle pushed Wilhelm away, the haunted look coming back to his eyes.

“Stay away from Lacuna Labs, Wilhelm. I don’t want you there when…” _When I kill the red-masked man?_ Pelle thought. _Or when I kill myself afterwards?_

Wilhelm hesitated. He could see it in Pelle’s eyes, that Pelle knew he wouldn’t be coming out of this the same. If he came out of it at all.

“OK, Pelle,” Wilhelm said, his heart breaking, knowing that one way or another, he was losing the boy the loved. “Goodbye.”

Pelle hesitated, too. He stared at Wilhelm’s face, imprinting every line and curve of the boy he loved in his memory. “’Bye,” he said wistfully.

Then Pelle turned and left.

### *** End of Part 4 ***


	5. Part 5

### Chapter 13

The setting sun cast deep shadows across the roof of the Lacuna Labs building as Pelle waited. Its dying rays caught the figure of a paraglider heading his way.

It was, of course, the red-masked man. As he landed on the roof, Pelle quickly downed the ultra-sugary drink he’d prepared personally by dissolving as much sugar as he could into as little liquid as needed to wash it down. A lack of sugar was not going to cause his defeat this time.

With grim determination, Pelle stepped out of the shadows to meet his foe.

***

Wilhelm paced around his room, unable to sit still. When the police alert about a disturbance on the roof of the Lacuna Labs building came through the Antboy alert system, Wilhelm was out the door in a flash. Yes, Pelle had told him to stay away, and he’d agreed, but he couldn’t do it. He had no clue what he would actually do when he got there, but he had to do something.

***

This time, with his powers at full strength and a vengeful rage burning inside him, the fight went in Pelle’s favor.

Pelle felt like he was moving faster and hitting stronger than ever, easily dodging the gradually slowing swings of his opponent as he wore him down, staggering him back with every blow.

Finally, the red-masked man was down on a knee, dazed. Pelle jumped up and smashed his fist down on the man’s face, putting all of his power behind it. And the man went down.

Pelle straddled his prone body and lifted his head up. Then he smashed his fist down as hard as he could into the man’s face, with as much power as he could muster. Then he did it again. And again. And again.

***

When Wilhelm finally burst onto the roof of the building, after an exhaustingly long bike ride and an interminable ride up the elevator, he found Pelle repeatedly punching the man in the face. The man had lost his mask, though that hardly mattered as his face was an unrecognizable bloody mess. He was limp in Pelle’s grasp. Was he too late?

“Pelle, stop!” Wilhelm called. But Pelle didn’t seem to hear him. He kept on hitting the man, over and over.

“Pelle! Stop!” Wilhelm called again, louder, running across the roof.

***

Faintly, over the roaring in his head, Pelle heard a voice, Wilhelm’s voice, calling him.

And Pelle hesitated. The voice penetrated through his rage; the red haze filling his mind retreated.

Breathing heavily, Pelle looked down at the man dangling limply from his grasp, blood and bruises covering his face. He was still breathing, but seemed to be unconscious.

_Now_ , thought Pelle. _I could kill him now_. All he had to do was twist the man’s neck. With his super strength he could snap it easily. The man wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone ever again. And Pelle would have his revenge.

But it wouldn’t undo what he’d done to Pelle.

“Pelle, don’t,” said Wilhelm quietly, right behind him.

Wilhelm didn’t care about the man. In fact, Wilhelm would be perfectly happy if the man died. But he didn’t want Pelle to kill him. He didn’t want Pelle to kill anyone. If he did, he wouldn’t be Pelle anymore.

Pelle hesitated, frozen in indecision. This was the moment, to do what he’d planned to do, to kill this man. Why was he hesitating? The man deserved it; Pelle was sure of that.

But now that the heat of battle had passed, that his rage had receded, Pelle wasn’t sure he could do it. Could he kill a man in cold blood?

But the man wasn’t as unconscious as he seemed. Suddenly, his leg shot up, kneeing Pelle hard in the groin. With a gasp of pain, Pelle dropped the man and instinctively grasped at his balls. If it wasn’t for the new Antboy suit’s impact armor, Pelle would have been down on the ground, incapacitated from the force of the blow. But Pelle was still standing. And the rage was back.

The man, greatly weakened from the beating he’d taken, tried to scramble away, but Pelle grabbed his arm and smashed it down across his knee, breaking both bones in the man’s forearm.

Wilhelm winced as he heard the crack as Pelle coldly broke the man’s arm. He’d never seen Pelle purposefully cause serious injury like that. The Pelle he knew before would never have done something like that.

Pelle grasped the man and spun around, throwing him across the roof.

The man went flying a good 30 meters (100 feet), landing hard and sliding. He barely managed to grab onto the edge with his good arm as he slid off the roof.

Pelle slowly walked over to the edge and looked down at the man. He was struggling desperately to pull himself up, but, weakened by his fight with Pelle and only able to use one arm, he couldn’t do it.

He looked up at Pelle, at the boy he had raped and broken, and knew that Pelle was going to let him die. He almost laughed. He’d obviously made a serious miscalculation. He should have killed the boy when he had a chance instead of toying with him. Now he was going to die and it was his own damn fault!

But then, just as his grip failed and his hand slipped from the roof, Pelle bent down and grabbed him by the wrist. Pelle lifted him easily with one arm and threw him down on the roof, safely away from the edge. The man lay there defeated, surprised to be alive.

“Why?” he asked, looking up at Pelle. “Why did you save me, after what I did to you?”

And looking over at Wilhelm, the boy who had saved him, Pelle said, “Because that’s what heroes do.”

### Chapter 14

The boys rode their bikes together in silence back to Wilhelm’s house, both lost in their own thoughts.

The crack of Pelle determinedly breaking the man’s arm still echoed through Wilhelm’s head. The Pelle of the past wouldn’t have done something so cold and brutal. Pelle was different now. But he wasn’t a killer. Wilhelm clung onto that.

Pelle, meanwhile, realized that he had almost let his own shame and self-loathing destroy him. But the more he thought of it, the more he wondered why. Why should he feel ashamed or guilty? Because he was raped? That wasn’t his fault.

Because he came while being raped? Though if he were honest, that was a mild way of putting it. But his body responding to being fucked was also something he couldn’t control.

Pelle finally began to believe that he could forgive himself for that. Or, more precisely, that there was nothing to forgive. He did nothing wrong.

But would Wilhelm feel the same way?

***

Back in Wilhelm’s bedroom, Pelle slowly stripped off the new Antboy suit. He didn’t know if Wilhelm still loved him, if Wilhelm **could** still love him after seeing that video. But he knew he still loved Wilhelm.

He finished taking off the Antboy suit, turned around, and stood there, naked, vulnerable.

“Wilhelm…do you still love me?” Pelle asked.

Wilhelm, lost in his own thoughts, looked up in shock.

“What? Of course! What ever made you think I didn’t?” Wilhelm exclaimed.

Pelle started crying, quietly at first. But when Wilhelm quickly stepped forward and embraced him, the dam burst. Pelle wrapped his arms around Wilhelm, tight enough to cause Wilhelm some discomfort, and sobbed, finally releasing the pain and fear he’d kept bottled up for days.

Wilhelm held him close, stroking his hair, crying silent tears of his own. “I love you, Pelle,” he whispered. “I’ll always love you.”

And Wilhelm just held him, until Pelle cried himself out.

***

The boys continued to embrace, quiet now, comfortable in each other’s arms. Wilhelm could have gladly stayed like that forever. But there was something else Pelle needed.

The red-masked man had taunted Pelle that he would always remember that night as his first time. And maybe he could never truly forget it. But he could try to supersede that memory with another, better one.

Pelle shifted in Wilhelm’s arms, pulling back a little and tilting his head up to give Wilhelm a kiss. It started out tenderly, but Pelle probed with his tongue and soon the boys were clumsily but passionately exploring each other’s mouths.

Pelle stepped back, grasped Wilhelm’s shirt, and effortlessly ripped it in half, tearing it off of him. He reached for Wilhelm’s pants, but Wilhelm quickly undid them himself, pushing them off, along with his shoes and socks, leaving him as naked as Pelle.

But then doubt crept in.

“Wait, Pelle. Are you sure you’re ready?” Wilhelm asked.

Wilhelm was torn. Part of him desperately wanted to have sex with Pelle again. It had been five days since that glorious afternoon when they’d sucked each other, back when the world was a kind place, when they were still innocent. He’d hardly even jacked off since then and was horny as hell. His cock was already rock hard.

But four days ago, their world had been shattered. Pelle had been raped. Was Pelle really ready for sex again?

And four days ago, Wilhelm had also discovered an ugliness in himself. While Pelle lay there hurt, when he should have been focused entirely on helping him, Wilhelm had found that he was jealous. Jealous that someone else had touched Pelle, even though it had been against Pelle’s will.

He hadn’t told Pelle about that yet, afraid that Pelle would hate him for it. Was it fair to Pelle to have sex with him without telling him first?

“Yes,” Pelle said. “I need you. I need you to help me forget.”

Pelle stepped forward and roughly kissed Wilhelm again. Then he started kissing his way down Wilhelm, kissing the small of his neck, his chest, his navel, his cock, his balls.

Pelle grasped Wilhelm cock and pulled back the foreskin, revealing the darker head beneath. And then, as he had done five long days ago, he stuck out his tongue and lightly licked the slit of Wilhelm’s cock.

Wilhelm gasped as Pelle’s tongue touched the sensitive head of his cock. He placed his hands on Pelle’s head, running his fingers through Pelle’s hair.

He moaned as Pelle twirled his tongue around his cockhead. Pelle licked all around the head of Wilhelm’s cock. Then he dropped a little lower and licked Wilhelm’s balls, playing with them with his tongue. He then worked his way back up, licking up the shaft.

Pelle closed his lips over the tip of Wilhelm’s foreskin. He pushed his lips down, sliding back Wilhelm’s foreskin with his lips, wrapping his tongue around the underside of Wilhelm’s cockhead as he did, teasing Wilhelm’s frenulum.

Pelle moved his sealed lips up and down Wilhelm’s cock, using his tongue to tease and tickle the head. But just as Wilhelm was about to cum, Pelle stopped and pulled his mouth off.

Pelle stood up and grasped Wilhelm by the shoulders, moving him back until the back of his legs hit the bed, causing Wilhelm to abruptly sit down. Pelle pushed Wilhelm back onto the bed and then knelt down, taking Wilhelm’s cock back into his mouth.

Wilhelm gasped in pleasure. But just as he was getting close, Pelle pulled off of him again.

“Do you have any lube?” Pelle asked.

“What?” Wilhelm replied, his brain fuzzy from all the stimulation.

“Do you have any lube?” Pelle repeated. “Like, Vaseline or something?”

“Yeah,” Wilhelm replied, still confused. “In the nightstand.” He said it before thinking, then desperately hoped that Pelle wouldn’t wonder why he had personal lube in his nightstand. Though considering what they were currently doing, he guessed that didn’t matter much.

Pelle went to the nightstand and took out the tube he found there. Then he came back to Wilhelm and squirted some lube on Wilhelm’s cock, spreading it around with his fingers. He then climbed onto his knees on the bed, straddling Wilhelm.

Pelle reached between his legs with more lube and spread it on his asshole, pushing a little in with his finger.

Wilhelm finally caught on to what Pelle was preparing to do. “Are you sure, Pelle?” Wilhelm asked again gently.

“Yes, I’m sure. I…I need you inside of me,” Pelle said, blushing.

And Pelle slowly started to lower himself onto Wilhelm’s cock. Pelle lined up Wilhelm’s cock with his hole and pressed his body down, feeling the pressure of Wilhelm’s cock against his anus.

Pelle relaxed his sphincter as he pushed down harder, and he felt Wilhelm’s cockhead pop into his ass.

Briefly Pelle flashed back to that night, the night he was raped, when he was penetrated for the first time. But he forcibly pushed that memory down, burying it, focusing on the moment.

This time, there was no pain. Wilhelm’s cock stretched him open, but it didn’t hurt. So, after pausing for a moment to give himself time to adjust, Pelle lowered himself down.

Wilhelm was in ecstasy. Pelle’s ring gripped him so tightly. And as it slid down, his cock was enveloped by the soft warmth beyond. He was inside of Pelle!

Pelle moaned as he slid down Wilhelm’s cock. It felt so good, sliding deeper inside him, filling him up. He slid down until he could go down no more and Wilhelm’s cock was buried completely in his ass.

And it felt perfect. Wilhelm’s cock fit him just right. Pelle paused to simply enjoy the sensation of being stretched open and filled.

And then he started moving. Pelle flexed his knees, riding Wilhelm, the tight ring of his hole sliding up and down Wilhelm’s cock.

And with a cry, Wilhelm came. He’d tried to hold it off, make it last, but it was all too much, the tightness sliding up and down his cock, the soft warmth rubbing against his cockhead, the knowledge that he was deep inside of Pelle. He shuddered and arched his back as his orgasm overwhelmed him. His cock throbbed again and again, squirting his seed deep inside Pelle.

Pelle paused when he felt Wilhelm cum. He pushed himself down as Wilhelm pushed up, burying Wilhelm’s cock as deeply into him as he could. A little shiver of delight went through him at the thought of Wilhelm’s shooting his cum deep inside of him.

But before Wilhelm’s cock could start to soften, Pelle started moving again.

Wilhelm groaned, the sensations caused by Pelle’s movement on his post-orgasmic overly-sensitive cock almost painfully intense at first. But he quickly got into it again as his arousal ramped back up.

As Pelle slid up and down, he also moved forward and back, trying to get Wilhelm’s cock to hit that special spot inside of him. Pelle leaned back and gasped as he found the spot, Wilhelm’s cock rubbing back and forth across it.

Wilhelm floated in a blissful haze, the sensations caused by Pelle riding his cock becoming his entire world; the feeling of Pelle’s tight asshole sliding up and down his shaft, of his cockhead moving inside Pelle.

Pelle moaned as Wilhelm’s cock slid in and out of his ass, the head rubbing across his prostate.

He moved a little faster. The feeling of Wilhelm’s cock sliding through his asshole drove him wild. And every time Wilhelm’s cockhead hit that special spot inside of him it sent a little jolt through him. But he needed more.

Keeping himself impaled on Wilhelm’s cock, Pelle rolled them over, so that he was on his back on the bed with his ass at the edge. Before he quite knew what had happened, Wilhelm found himself standing by the edge of the bed, his cock still buried in Pelle’s ass.

Pelle pulled his knees down to his ears. In this position, Wilhelm could get even deeper into his ass.

“Fuck me,” Pelle said.

Wilhelm pulled back and pushed forward, slowly fucking Pelle’s ass. Wilhelm knew about the prostate and how good it could feel. He’d played with his own ass more than once—which was why he had lube in his nightstand. So he tried to fuck Pelle in such a way that it would stimulate his prostate.

Though Wilhelm was inexperienced and a little clumsy, he was good enough. Pelle moaned in pleasure at each stroke as Wilhelm’s cock rubbed back and forth across his prostate. “Harder,” Pelle said.

Wilhelm moved faster, fucking Pelle harder, trying to get deeper. Pelle gave a little high-pitched squeal every time Wilhelm slammed into him, sending a wave of pleasure through him.

The pressure of impending orgasm built up in Pelle. He was right on the edge. It felt like he was already cumming, a long continuous orgasm.

And then he really started to cum. His second time cumming from being fucked. But this time it was pure pleasure.

His asshole started contracting, his cock started throbbing, and his whole body started shaking as waves of orgasmic bliss flooded over him.

Pelle let out a cry, half scream and half moan. His body trembled and his back arched as the orgasmic waves kept coming, each one stronger than the last, one long, continuous, powerfully pulsating orgasm.

And Pelle was lost. Nothing existed but the pleasure pulsing through him, over and over again, wave upon wave, a never-ending, never-ceasing orgasm.

***

Wilhelm was amazed. Though he had no real experience, he knew that anal sex was supposed to feel good if done right. But Pelle came just from being fucked, without his cock being touched. And what an orgasm it was!

As Wilhelm kept fucking, Pelle kept cumming. The seconds stretched out. Pelle’s orgasm was much longer than any Wilhelm had ever had. And stronger, too, it seemed; Pelle was shaking all over.

Wilhelm tried to make it last. He lasted much longer than he normally might have, having just cum once already. But seeing the ecstasy Pelle was in and knowing that he was the cause of it was too much. It pushed Wilhelm over the edge again. He threw back his head and screamed as he came. His cock throbbed again and again, shooting more of his cum deep inside of Pelle.

As his incredible orgasm died down, Wilhelm trembled and almost collapsed. He only managed to support himself by leaning on Pelle. His cock continued to throb inside of Pelle ass as aftershocks ran through him.

Finally, though, Wilhelm slowly slid his finally softening cock out of Pelle’s ass and collapsed next to him on the bed.

And slowly Pelle started to come down, too, his contractions dying down, the orgasmic waves getting less intense. Pelle lowered his legs and lay there with his eyes closed, spent, floating in a blissful haze, his entire body twitching with aftershocks.

Both boys were breathing heavily. Wilhelm was slick with sweat. Even Pelle, who normally didn’t sweat, was a little damp with perspiration, his hair clinging to his forehead.

Wilhelm opened his eyes and looked at Pelle. He was so beautiful. The rapturous expression on his face made him look angelic.

Pelle sighed heavily and opened his eyes and looked at Wilhelm, an expression of love on his face.

They kissed again, lightly, gently.

“I love you, Wilhelm,” Pelle sighed.

“I love you, too, Pelle,” Wilhelm replied.

### Chapter 15

Pelle and Wilhelm went to sleep after their lovemaking, both completely worn out. The late morning light found them wrapped in each other’s arms.

They awakened slowly, languorously, still blissful from the previous night.

“’Morning,” Pelle mumbled with a shy smile, stretching.

“’Morning,” Wilhelm replied, smiling back.

“That was amazing,” said Pelle.

“Yeah,” said Wilhelm, immediately knowing what he meant. “It was.”

They enjoyed a companionable silence for a while, nestled in each other arms. But Wilhelm never could stay quiet for too long.

“I never knew anyone could cum like that,” he said. “It seemed like your orgasm went on for minutes.”

“It felt like forever,” Pelle said.

But then a shadow passed behind Pelle’s eyes.

“But you did know, didn’t you,” Pelle said, looking away. “You saw the video. I came like that when…”

And Wilhelm’s heart broke for Pelle. He hated that Pelle had been hurt so bad. And he hated the man that had hurt him.

Wilhelm understood now. It wasn’t so much that he’d been raped that upset Pelle. It was that, at least on a purely physical level, he’d enjoyed it. No, maybe that was the wrong phrase. Not enjoyed. It had been physically pleasurable, enough to make him cum. And Pelle was ashamed of that. And apparently had thought that Wilhelm despised him for that.

Wilhelm held Pelle close, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry, Pelle,” Wilhelm said softly. “I wish I could take this pain away from you.

“It’s OK, you know,” Wilhelm continued after a moment. “It’s OK that you…that you, uh, c-came from, uh…”

“From being forcibly fucked up the ass?” Pelle said drolly.

“It’s OK,” Wilhelm said again forcefully, holding Pelle close. “It could happen to anyone. You’ve nothing to be ashamed about.

“I love you, Pelle,” he whispered. “I’ll always love you.”

And as he snuggled deeper into Wilhelm’s arms, Pelle felt the self-hatred leave him. Wilhelm’s acceptance drove it away.

***

Later the boys sat on the bed, having a snack, still naked.

“You know,” Pelle said, looking down, not meeting Wilhelm’s gaze, needing to confess one more thing. “For a while there after that night, I thought about killing myself.”

Wilhelm had suspected as much. Part of the reason he had worked so hard to keep Pelle from killing the man was that he had been worried it would push Pelle over the edge. “But not anymore, I assume?”

“No, not anymore,” Pelle said with a shy smile at Wilhelm, and Wilhelm gave a sigh of relief.

“While we’re confessing things,” Wilhelm said then, looking down himself in shame, “I have something to confess, too.”

“Really?” Pelle said, with a puzzled look. “What’s that?”

Wilhelm took a deep breath. “After what that man did to you, there was a part of me that was jealous.”

Pelle blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Yeah,” Wilhelm said. “Jealous that someone else touched you. Jealous that someone else was the first to, to...”

“To fuck me,” Pelle said.

“Yeah,” Wilhelm said, wincing. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, blinking back tears.

“It’s OK,” Pelle said. “I’m sorry, too. I wish you had been my first. Of course, while we’re wishing things,” he continued wryly, “I wish I’d never been raped at all.”

Wilhelm gave a little half-laugh, half-sob. “Of course.”

“Besides,” Pelle said, “to me you are my first. The first that counts.”

Pelle grabbed Wilhelm’s hand and smiled at him, and Wilhelm smiled back.

“I know last night was pretty draining,” Wilhelm asked after a while, “but do you think you’re up for more?”

“Of course!” Pelle responded brightly, “I’ve got super stamina, you know. What did you have in mind?”

“I thought maybe this time you could fuck me,” Wilhelm replied shyly, “and see if you can get me to cum forever.”

Pelle grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

### Epilogue

Dr. Albert Gæmelkrå, a.k.a. The Flea, was, as always, sitting in his cell in Dragonstone prison, staring at the clear wall of his cell, contemplating his failures. Apparently that well-dressed large man that had visited him had failed in his attempt to destroy Antboy, as he was now in the same prison as Gæmelkrå while Antboy was still alive.

Gradually, he became aware of another presence in the shadows. Curious. Two visitors in two weeks.

“You!” Gæmelkrå hissed, eyes narrowing, as the olive-skinned boy stepped into the light. “What are you doing here? Come to gloat?”

“I came to give you a warning,” Wilhelm replied calmly. “I know it was you who gave that man the knowledge to hurt Pelle. Only three of us knew his secret. And only you would tell.”

Gæmelkrå sniffed. “What does it matter? The large buffoon obviously couldn’t follow simple instructions as he’s in here and Antboy is unharmed.”

Wilhelm’s turned hot with fury at Gæmelkrå words. Unharmed?

Wilhelm stepped closer to the barrier separating them. Gæmelkrå found himself taken aback by the steely look in the boy’s eyes.

“Don’t think these walls will protect you, Flea,” Wilhelm said, articulating the nickname with scorn. “You try to hurt him again and it will be the last thing you do.”

Gæmelkrå gave a derisive snort in reply. What could the kid do to him? But just then a claxon sounded. “Code Blue in the maximum security cell block.”

Wilhelm gave a tight little smile. “That would be your large friend,” he stated simply.

Fear wormed its way into Gæmelkrå as he stared at the young boy. Code Blue meant a cardiac arrest. Could he really have arranged the man’s death? Inside a maximum security prison?

“Behave yourself, Gæmelkrå,” Wilhelm said, as he stepped back into the shadows.

***

Wilhelm leaned shakily against the railing after exiting the prison building, letting his menacing facade drop. The timing of the masked man’s death couldn’t have been better, though Wilhelm hadn’t expected to actually be in the building when it happened.

_It had to be done_ , Wilhelm told himself yet again. The man knew too much. He might have leaked the video of Pelle’s rape, even while in prison. And he knew Pelle’s secret. And how to defeat him.

By that reasoning, Gæmelkrå should die, too. But Wilhelm couldn’t bring himself to arrange it. The Flea was a miserable, horrid little man. And yes, he’d tried to kill Pelle. But he didn’t go around raping and killing little boys.

Wilhelm realized he was a killer now. Even if he hadn’t done the deed directly, he’d arranged for it to happen. He was now the very thing that he’d worked so hard to keep Pelle from becoming.

But it was his burden to bear. And now Pelle was safe. And Pelle need never know it was him.

### *** The End ***


End file.
